Assassin's Creed: Revelations
by Wild Mustang of Freedom
Summary: The continuation of "Assassin's Creed: Apprentice" and "Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood." It is the final story of Arthur Auditore, as he follows Ezio to Istanbul. What will the Auditore brothers find in this hallowed city? Claudia\OC, Ezio\Sofia.
1. Chapter 1

Assassin's Creed: Revelations

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own character, and small deviations from the plot.

An eagle soared over my head, shrieking as it flew in the clear sky. I watched it as I stood beside my brother, on a ship bound for Istanbul.

I still couldn't believe that I let Ezio talk me into coming to Masyaf. Well, to be honest, it was both Ezio and Claudia.

Ezio wanted to discover hidden secrets of the Assassins, especially Ezio's ancestor, Altair Ibn Alad, who was the second Grand Master of the Order of the Assassins, his headquarters Ezio had visited, and all the clues pointed to the former capital of Eastern Rome.

Claudia managed to blackmail me into going, using little Maria's fascination of the origins of the Order to get me into it. I could never refuse my little darling, especially when she looked at me with her spectacularly shiny brown eyes.

Claudia and Maria were in Rome, placed in charge of Rome's Assassins until our return. Monterrigioni was in the relatively capable hands of what was left of Mario's milita, since Claudia had become bored of the place, and wanted to go back to Rome.

Maria, now ten years old, was as strong and fiery as her mother, despite her tender age. My two dearest ones, I thought, looking over the landscape around me, my keen eyes not weakened at all from age, despite the fact that I was over fifty.

The funny thing was, Claudia and I did not bear the signs of old age as Ezio did.

Unlike Ezio's salt and pepper colored hair, you would be hard-pressed to find any grey hair on mine or Claudia's head.

Ezio complained of it constantly, but I couldn't come up with any answer suitable, other than teasing him about his age.

I could also still fight and run as often and as well as I did in my youth, and I had still not lost my southern drawl, something that my two girls found deeply amusing, or in Claudia's case, _exciting_.

I could see the vast city in all it's splendor, since we were almost ready to disembark. I could hear Ezio speaking to a young Ottoman nearby, so I decided to listen in join in the conversation at the appropriate time.

"Watch your sleeve purses when you go to the Bazaar," the young man said to Ezio and I, noticing that I was listening in. The lad was an attentive one. "You get a pretty mixed bag of people there."

I chuckled. "Like in any souk." The young man smiled. "Evet. Just where the towers are, is the Imperial district. That grey dome you can see is the old church of the Haghia Sofia, which is now a mosque."

As the young man pointed out various places, I noticed that he didn't care to speak about the royal family or the palaces very much.

Suspicious? Perhaps he did not care for them. As we walked on the docks, Ezio caught my eye, and nodded toward a group of passing soldiers. He wanted me to eavesdrop, and I gave him a small nod.

From their conversations, I gathered that the Byzantines and the Ottomans were fighting it out, and that the former were our enemies, and they wore rough, reddish clothing.

When I returned to Ezio and relayed the information, Ezio's young man had gotton our sharbats and he continued our conversation. "So you see, for all its beauty, Kostantiniyye (Arabic for Constantinople) is not the most perfect place in the world."

I nodded and shrugged. "Is anywhere?"

The man chuckled as Ezio watched a pretty red-haired woman in a bright green dress struggling with a heavy box. "Incredible! I'm surprised you got anything done at all."

I chuckled as Ezio replied, "So was my mother." The young man collided with me in an attempt help the lady, and I stepped out of his way. "Farewell, friends! Allaha ismarladik (God Bless you)!" With that, he dissapeared into the crowd with the lady.

I felt eyes watching me, and I looked up to see a man watching Ezio and I.

He was a tough man, in his midthirties, in a white surcoat with a red sash, and dark trousers tucked into yellow boots. He had long dark hair and beard, and four throwing knives attached high on his left shoulder. He also wore a scimitar, and his right forearm carried a triple-plated steel guard.

As Ezio and I tensed, I thought I could see the harness of a hidden-blade just beneath his right hand. His surcoat was hodded, but the hood was down, and the man's unruly hair was kept in check by a broad yellow bandana.

When we were within two paces of each other, we eyed each other warily.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Suddenly, the man bowed deeply, smiling.

"Welcome, Brothers! Unless the legend is a lie, you are the men I have always longed to meet. Renowned Masters and Mentor, Ezio and Arthur Auditore da..."

He broke off, and his dignity deserted him. "Lah, lah-lah!" He finished.

"Prego?" Ezio asked in amusement, as I snorted.

"Forgive me, I have a hard time getting my tongue round Italian."

Ezio shrugged his shoulders. "The last part of our names refers to our birthplace."

The man smiled. "Which would make me...Yusuf Tazim da Istanbul! I like that!"

Ezio looked confused, and I helped him. "Istanbul is one of their many names for this city."

Yusuf smiled. "Exactly, Master! It's a favorite of the locals. Welcome to our city, Masters! I am glad you have arrived at last. I will show you the city."

I blinked with surprise. "How did you expect us?"

Yusuf waved his hand airily. "Your wife wrote from Rome to alert the Brotherhood here. We have watched the docks for weeks. I can show you the letter, since I have it with me. You see, I knew the both of you would not be men to take anything at face value."

I raised my hand. "That won't be necessary. I see you wear a Hidden Blade, so I will take that as a sign you are telling the truth."

I glanced at Ezio, who nodded, and we both relaxed slightly.

"Come." Yusuf said, putting both hands on each of our shoulders, his attitude becoming solemn, guiding us through the teeming throng.

The crowded lanes he led us down, each side filled with stalls selling all manner of goods under countless colorful awnings, were filled with people of every nation and race on earth.

A cacophany of languages met my ears before we had walked one block. "Welcome to the Galata District." Yusuf said, beaming. "For centuries, it has been a home to orphans from Europe and Asia alike. You won't find more diversity anywhere else in the city. And for that very good reason, we Assassins have our headquarters here."

Ezio and I looked at each other, then I said, "Show us."

Yusuf nodded eagerly. "Kesinlikle (At once), Master and Mentor! The Brotherhood here is impatient to meet the men who put the Borgia out to grass." He said with a laugh.

"Does everyone in the city already know we are here?" Ezio asked, sounding annoyed.

"I sent a boy ahead as soon as I spotted you." Yusuf said, with a slight shrug.

Ezio nodded. "When I started on this journey, violence was far from my mind. I sought the wisdom of Altair's library."

Our new lieutenant laughed. "Not realizing that it's been sealed shut for two and a half centuries?"

I smiled as Ezio laughed. "No. We assumed as much. But I admit that I never quite expected to find Templars guarding it." Ezio replied, and I snorted. "I'm surprised that they got over bickering for power enough to do so."

Ezio cast me an amused look. "You've spent too many years with Machiavelli." Both of us laughed as we reached a small square, and Yusuf drew us to one side to point out a knot of four men crowded in a corner. They were dressed in dull grey armor over rough red woolen tunics and jerkins.

"It is very troubling. Five years ago, Templar influence here was minimal. Just a small faction, with dreams of restoring the throne of Byzantium." We'd reached a small square and Yusuf drew us to one side, gesturing to the same men. "They are growing day by day, and it seems like they are waiting for something. For all we know, Sultan Bayezid is on his way out. They may try something dramatic."

I frowned. "But isn't there an heir to the Ottoman throne?"

Yusuf nodded. "That's the trouble: there are two of them. Two angry sons. It's a familiar pattern with these royals. When the sultan coughs, the princes drew their swords." I scratched my beard, letting out a sigh of resignation. "Great! Now we've got two idiot factions to deal with! This is going to be a freaking holiday!"

Ezio patted me on the shoulder in mock sympathy, and said to Yusuf, "Between the Templars and the Ottomans, you must be kept busy."

Yusuf shrugged. "My friends, I tell you in truth that I barely have time to polish my blade!" Just then, a shot rang out, and a bullet embedded itself in the wall inches to the left of Yusuf's head.

I swore, and pushed my brother and our new friend behind a row of spice barrels, and I followed close behind them.

"Talk of the devil, and there he is!" Yusuf said, tight lipped.

I chuckled as I raised my head just enough to see the gunman reloading across the square. I liked this kid.

"Looks like our Byzantine friends over there didn't take too kindly to being stared at. Well-thrown!" Yusuf finished, as my throwing knife buried into the gunman's throat.

Meanwhile, his homeboys were already sprinting at us, swords drawn.

"Nowhere to run," said Ezio, drawing his sword while I did likewise.

"Baptism by fire for you," said Yusuf. "And you've only just arrived. Cok uzuldum (I'm sorry)." Ezio smiled as I shrugged. "Don't mention it."

Yusuf drew his own sword, and the three of us engaged our foes. We were less armored, producing both mobility and weakness to blows.

These scumbags weren't pushovers, I thought as I dodged a scimitar and stabbed another at the same time.

Yusuf kept up his banter as we fought, showing both his reckless youth and his experience with these soldiers. "The whole city stirs to welcome you. First the regents, like me, and now the rats."

I concentrated on my swordplay, but was slightly concerned about Ezio, whose age was slowing him down. That brotherly concern distracted me enough for me to get a gash on the forearm.

I fell back involuntarily as my opponent pressed me, and Ezio and Yusuf came to my aid.

Ezio cut him down as I regained my balance, and I helped him by killing another mercenary who was coming on his blind side.

The remaining Byzantine, a big man with a rough jaw, looked doubtful for a moment, but charged toward us anyway.

Yusuf tripped him up, and the man knocked into a couple of spice barrels. He didn't rise again.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After glancing around, we wiped our swords and sheathed them.

As Ezio and Yusuf discussed fighting techniques, I made sure our enemies would not rise again.

Yusuf glanced around. "We'd better go. I think that's enough fun for one day."

Just then, another squad of Byzantine mercenaries came sprinting into the square, and we prepared ourselves for another fight.

But then the other side of the square filled with more troops, wearing a different uniform: blue tunic and dark, conical felt hats.

"Hang on, wait!" Yusuf cried as I stepped foward.

I stopped as the new arrivals turned to attack the mercenaries, quickly causing them to retreat and pursuing them out of sight, out of the square.

"They were Ottoman regular troops," Yusuf said in response to both of our surprised faces. "Not Janissaries. Janissaries are the elite regiment, and you'll know them when you see them. But all Ottoman soldiers have a special loathing for Byzantines, so that works to our advantage...slightly. They will still kill you if you look at them in a way they don't like, same as the Byzantines. The difference is, the Ottomans will feel bad about it afterward."

I laughed, and shook my head, and Ezio, was of the same mind, said, "Touching."

Yusuf grinned at us. "It's not so bad, really. For the first in many decades, we Assassins have a strong presence here. Under the Byzantines, we were slaughtered on the spot."

Ezio glanced at me, and nodded. "You'd better tell us more about that."

Yusuf looked at me in surprise as I took a moment to scratch up my history lessons. Luckily, I had a damn good memory.

"Well, the old emperor, Constantine the eleventh, only reigned for three years, thanks to Sultan Mehmed. By the time Mehmed took this city, almost all of it was gone, including the Byzantines. They even say Constantine was so broke he had to replace the jewels in his robes for glass copies."

Ezio smiled. "My heart bleeds for him." I chuckled. "Mine too. However, despite this, he refused to surrender, so he went down fighting."

I looked to Yusuf, my history lessons reaching a dead end. Yusuf patted me on the back, and did just that. "But his spirit wasn't shared by two of his nephew. One is dead, but the other..." Yusuf trailed off, thoughtfully.

"He's against us?" Ezio asked. "Oh, you can bet on that. And he's against the Ottomans. The rulers, anyway."

I spoke up. "Where is he now?"

Yusuf looked vague. "Who knows? In exile, somewhere? But if he's still alive, he'll be plotting something."

I frowned. "Then let's hunt down the bastard. What did you say his name was?"

Yusuf shrugged. "It's Palaiologos. But I would concentrate here. We have two nephews of the Sultan who want the throne. Both went to ground in Europe. One stayed there, trying to raise an army to take Constantinople, but he was killed without an heir. The other returned to the city and renounced any imperial ambition. He used to be in the navy, but dissapeared recently. He is known by many names, and has Templar connections. We are almost there. This way."

We were deep into the heart of the city, and we made another turn into a narrow street, dim, cool, and shadowy despite the sunshine, which tried, and failed, to penetrate the narrow space between the buildings on either side.

Yusuf paused at a small green-painted door and raised the brass knocker on it. He tapped out a code, so softly that I wondered if anyone could hear it. But within seconds, the door was swung open by a broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped girl who bore the Assassin's emblem on the buckle of her tunic belt.

We found ourselves in a spacious courtyard, green vines clinging to the yellow walls. Assembling there was a small group of young men and women.

They gazed at us in awe as Yusuf, with a theatrical gesture, turned to us and said, "Mentor and Master, say hello to your extended family."

I smiled and waved as Ezio greeted them vocally. "Greetings to you, Assassins. It is an honor to find such fast friends so far from home." To my amusement, I noticed that Ezio was moved to tears.

Yusuf turned to his fellow members. "You see, friends? Our Mentor is not afraid to weep openly in front of his pupils."

Grinning, I patted Ezio on the back. "Don't worry, guys. He won't make a habit of it. Or will you?" I added in a whisper, and Ezio gave me a look that promised a painful death if I should antagonize him any further.

"The Mentor and Master have not been in our city more than a matter of ours, and already there is news," Yusuf went on, his face serious. "We were attacked on the way here. It seems the mercenaries are on the move once more."

He indicated three men and two women. "I want you to make a sweep of the area now!" The five silently rose, bowing to us as they took their leave.

"The rest of you, back to work." Left alone, Yusuf turned to us, and asked what we wanted to do next. Both Ezio and I decided to get used to the city after we had eaten and rested.

I had a feeling that we were going to need it.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

If we were being honest, we wanted to collect our thoughts as we traversed the streets of Istanbul, spending the afternoon acquainting ourselves thouroughly with the Galatia District, not to mention avoiding any trouble along the wasn't too hard, since the city was an immensely crowded one.

Once we were satisfied with our surroundings, we returned to HQ, just as the first lamps were being lit in the dark interiors of the shops. Yusuf and some of his people were waiting for us.

The Turk immediatley approached us, looking pleased with himself, something which came easily to him. "Praise the heavens! Mentor and Master! I am glad to see you again. We feared we had lost you to the vices of the big city."

I laughed and Ezio smiled and spoke. "You are being melodramatic, and as for those vices, we have plenty of our own."

Yusuf nodded. "I hope you will approve of the arrangements we have made in your absence." Yusuf led us to an inner chamber, where a complete new outfit had been laid out for Ezio. Next to it were his weapons, and next to that, my own weapons, which we both donned. They were sharpened and looked as good as new, including new crossbows for the both of us.

"We noticed that you had no hookblades, so we have organized two for each of you."

Ezio and I exchanged a look. "Hookblade?" We both asked simultainiously.

"Yes, here." Yusuf drew back his sleeve to reveal what I had first taken to be a hidden-blade. But when Yusuf activated it, and it sprang forth, he saw that it was a more complex variant. The telescopic blade of the new weapon ended in a curved hook of well-tempered steel.

"Fascinating," said Ezio. "Me like!" I said at the same time.

"You've never seen one before? I grew up using these." Yusuf affirmed.

I shook my head, and Ezio said, "Show us."

Yusuf took two new hookblades from one of the Assassins in attendance, who'd held them at the ready, and tossed one to each of us. Transferring our hidden-blades from our right wrists to our left, under the bracers, we strapped the new hookblades to our right wrists.

I felt its unfamiliar weight and practiced releasing and retracting it. This was about as bad-ass as they came!

"You'd better give us a demonstration." Ezio said from my left, and Yusuf nodded. "Immediately, if you are ready." I nodded when Ezio glanced at me. "As we will ever be."

Yusuf smiled. "Then follow me and watch what I do closely."

We went outside and down the street in the light of late afternoon to a deserted space between a group of tall brick buildings. Yusuf selected one, whose high walls were decorated with projecting horizontal runs of tiled brick at intervals of some ten feet. Yusuf selected one, whose high walls were decorated with tiled brick at intervals of some ten feet.

Yusuf set off toward the building at a run, leaping, when he reached it, onto a couple of water barrels placed close to it, then, springing upward from them, he released his hookblade and used it to grip the first projecting run of tiles, pulling himself up with the hookblade and using his momentum to hook onto the run above, and so on until he was standing on the roof of the building, all in less than a few seconds.

"Damn, this kid's got moves!" I muttered as Ezio and I followed him with little trouble, although it did take a little bit longer, but not much.

"Don't stop to think," Yusuf told us when we had joined him. "Use your instincts and let the hook do the work. I can already see that after another couple of climbs like that, you'll have mastered it. You're quick learners, Mentor and Master."

I shrugged. "We have to be."

Yusuf smiled, and extended his own blade again for us to examine. "The standard Ottoman hook-blade has two parts - the hook and the blade, so that you can use one or the other independently. An elegant design, no?"

Ezio nodded. "A pity we didn't have one of these in the past."

Yusuf shrugged. "Perhaps then you had no need of one. Come!" We spent the next few hours making sure we knew how our new toys worked, then we joined Yusuf on the roof of a huge building. The view took my breath away, but was smart enough to familiarize myself with the city's layout. But another part of my mind, and probably Ezio's, just drank in the glory of the city.

"Welcome to Istanbul, Mentor and Master," said Yusuf, watching our stunned expressions. "The Crossroads of the World."

What I wouldn't have given for a video or photo camera!

"I can see now why they call it that." Ezio said from beside me.

"Many generations of men have ruled this city, but they have never subdued her. Whatever yoke is placed upon her neck, whatever neglect or pillage is visited upon her, she always bounces back."

I nodded. "It sounds like a damn good place to call home."

Yusuf nodded. "It is." Yusuf stepped to the edge of the tower after another minute or two, looked down, then turned to us again. "Race you to the bottom?" He asked, and, without waiting for a reply, threw himself from the parapet in an awesome Leap of Faith. "Son of a bitch!" I said to Ezio, as we watched him plummet like hawk catching its prey, and land safely in a hay wain he'd already singled out, 175 feet below.

"Age before beauty, _Fratello_!" I said to Ezio, who gave me a rude hand gesture in reply before following after Yusuf.

"I'll make you regret those ill-spoken words, _Fratellino_." He called over his shoulder before making his Leap of Faith.

Smiling, I took a moment to look at the city again. The Great City, the heiress of Ancient Rome. Constantinople was a thousand years old and had been home to hundreds of thousands of citizens at a time, when Rome and Florence were mere villages by comparison.

I felt a pang of pain and guilt as I remembered my two girls. I had to write to them soon, or I would go insane. I didn't want to be here, but it had been their idea for me to do so.

Then I thought of our faceless enemies, and an old song came to mind: "**Bad boys! Bad boys! Whatch'ya gonna do when we come for you**?" I sang, before executing my own Leap of Faith.

* * *

><p><strong>Friends, you know the drill. Read and review! TBear this in mind: the faster I get reviews, the sooner I start writing!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The following morning, the three of us sat in the courtyard of the Assassin HQ, poring over plans spread on a table, charting our next move.

There was no doubt in our minds that couriers from the Templars at Masyaf would very soon arrive in the city, if they had not done so already, and that a concerted Templar attack had to be anticipated.

"It's like a hydra, the Templar organization." I brooded. "Cut one damned head off, and two grow back."

Yusuf shrugged. "Not in Rome, Master. You and the Mentor have seen to that."

Ezio was silent. With his thumb, he tried the edge of the hookblade he was oiling. "I am certainly impressed by this weapon, Yusuf. Our brothers in Rome would profit from having them as part of their equipment."

"It's not a hard design to copy," Yusuf replied. "Just give credit where it's due."

Suddenly, the door to the street burst open, and I reached for a throwing knife. I stopped when I realized it was Kazim, one of Yusuf's lieutenants, rushed in, his eyes wild. "Yusuf, come quickly! It's an attack on two fronts! Our Dens in Galata and the Grand Bazaar!" In no time at all, we were sprinting along the rooftops towards the battle.

We spent a fun-filled afternoon of basically beating the hell out of enemies trying to impose their will on our Bretheren.

Laying an ass-whupping on Templars is my definition of fun, in case you haven't noticed. However, the fight was not a one-sided affair. The Templars momentarily took one of our Dens, but not for very long.

* * *

><p>A few days later, the three of us stood in the Bazaar Den, which was remarkably neat and tidy, given its recent occupation by the Templars.<p>

"I don't see much damage." I noted to Yusuf, as our Turkish comrade stared at the ceiling.

"None that I can see. Byzantine Templars may be bad hosts, but they are decent tenants. Once they capture a location, they like to keep it intact."

Ezio nodded. "Because they intend to stay?"

Yusuf rubbed his hands together. "Exactly! We must take advantage of our little victories to prepare you further for the fight against our Greek friends. I've shown you both how to use some of our bombs. But it'll be even better if you know how to make them."

Ezio looked doubtful. "Is there someone here who can teach us?"

Yusuf nodded. "Of course! The master himself, Piri Reis!"

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Is this guy one of us?"

Yusuf nodded. "In a manner of speaking. He likes to keep himself aloof at times, but he is for us."

I scratched my beard dubiously. "I thought he was more of a mapmaker."

Yusuf waved his hand airily. "Mapmaker, seafarer, pirate - though these days he's rising swiftly through the ranks of the Ottoman Navy. And he knows Istanbul like the back of his hand."

Ezio nodded. "Good - because there's something I'd like to ask him about the city that he may know. Where can we meet him?"

Yusuf smiled. "No time like the present. And we don't have any to lose. Do you need any rest before we go?"

Both of us shook our heads. "Good! I'll take you to him now. His workroom isn't far from here."

* * *

><p>Piri Reis - Admiral Piri - had a small set of second-story, open-plan rooms on the north side of the Grand Bazaar, whose tall windows threw a cold, clear light on the handful of map tables neatly arranged on the teak floors of a cramped studio.<p>

Equally neatly spread out on the tables were maps of a greater number and variety than we had ever seen before, and seated by them, a handful of assistants were diligently working in silence.

The southern walls of the workroom were covered with more maps that were neatly arranged and placed. Several large globes with the fresh ink of the latest discoveries completed the picture.

The western wall was also covered with detailed technical drawings, expertly accomplished, mostly designs for bombs.

They were divided into categories: Lethal, Tactical, Diversionary, and Special Casings. An alcove in the wall was big enough to contain a worktable, and behind it, a number of metalworkers' tools were placed on shelves.

Leonardo's chaotic workshops were sharply contrasted with Piri's workshop. We found Piri himself at work at a large drafting table directly under the windows.

Six or seven years younger than Ezio and I, he was a tanned, weather-beaten, healthy, and robust figure of a man, wearing a blue silk turban, under which a strong face looked out at the work he was currently attending to through piercing, clear grey eyes.

His luxuriant brown beard was neatly trimmed, though worn long, covering the collar of the high-necked, silver brocade tunic he wore, with baggy blue trousers and plain wooden clogs.

He gave us each an appraising glance, which Ezio and I returned, as Yusuf made the instuctions.

"Ah yes. The famous Auditore brothers. I must say that you don't look like brothers, but I am sure you are aware of that." The Admiral said, a twinkle in his eye.

I grinned, liking this man already. "I have seen your works. We had a copy of the one you made for Cyprus." Ezio said, and the man folded his arms.

"Did you?" He asked, his tone gruff, Perhaps displeased by our interruption.

I jumped in. "However, Admiral, it is another aspect of your expertise we have come to seek your advice about today."

Ignoring my remark, Piri asked for the map Ezio had, and Ezio admitted that he had given it to another seaman. "What's his name? I might have heard of him."

I answered the question, something that I did to make clear that Ezio and I were almost always on the same page. "He's a Mamluk. Goes by the name of Al-Scarab."

Piri beamed, surprising me slightly. "That old rogue! We side by side at both battles of Lepanto a dozen years ago."

He sat us down for refreshments, and Yusuf left us with him at Piri's bidding.

* * *

><p>We spoke first of the race of between the Assassins and the Templars in finding Altair's library, and he pointed out a likely spot where we could find the Polo's old trading post. He warned us to be wary, of what he didn't elaborate.<p>

For the next few hours, he walked us through how to make bombs. Each bomb contained the fundamental ingredient of gunpowder, but not all were lethal.

Some contained smokescreens, lambs' blood (to create panic), odors, caltrops, and other such things. Perhaps the most unpleasant were the bombs that used datura powder or deadly nightshade.

"Datura and deadly nightshade are two of what we call the witches' weeds, along with henbane and mandrake," Piri explained, his face grave. "I do not like to use them except in cases of great extremity and danger. When exploded in the midst of an enemy, datura causes delirium, deranging the brain, and death. Deadly nightshade produces poisonous gas."

I shook my head. "Sometimes I wonder if it is worth this." Ezio gave me a look. "The Templars would not hesitate to use them against us if they could, and you know it!"

I nodded silently. Ever since Maria had been born, I started to realize how precious life is. This did not mean that I had any love for Templars, but I had my boundaries. To me, datura and nightshade toed the line, but I would not argue with Ezio about it. Besides, the only fair fight was the one we won.

Piri cleared his throat. "That is one of the moral paradoxes mankind will wrestle with before becoming truly civilized," he replied. "Is it evil to use evil to combat evil? Is agreeing with that argument merely a simple justification for something that we should not do."

He looked at me, and I bit my lip. He had a fair point, but my parents had no qualms about killing me to get power. At the same time, that didn't mean that I had to be as cruel as they had been.

"For now," said Ezio, "there is not leisure to ponder such questions."

Piri shrugged. "You'll find the ingredients for these bombs in locations about the city, which Yusuf will tell you of. Keep your eyes open and your nose to the ground." Ezio and I shook his hand.

"I'm quite sure we will be seeing you again." I said, with a grin.

He returned the smile. "I have no doubt of it, Arthur Auditore da Monterrigioni!"

* * *

><p><strong>And cut! I'd hate to bring up this moral stuff, but I think it is important to realize the seriousness of murder and hatred. Look around us, throughout our history, and you will see that I have a point. The problem that I have with the (Ubisoft) Assassins is that they created a code that essentially says that the ends justify the means, and that morality has no meaning. However, it is admirable how dedicated to the free will of man they are. Is that civilized enough to be acceptable, morally speaking. Sorry to get up on my soap-box, but I had alot of thought in this, so I thought I should share it with you. What do you think? Add your (rational) arguments into your review of this chapter. <strong>


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"You know that I have no love for the Templars more than anyone else, Ezio. I more than most of the Order knows what they are capable of, but the use of these kinds of weapons seems like over-kill." I said as we made our way through the Bazaar, Ezio beside me.

"I know, Arthur, I know. However, there will be situations when we will have need of such weapons."

I nodded. "And I will most certainly use them, just not to an extent that we lose our humanity to this war. We've lost too much of it already, and I don't want Maria to go down such a path."

Ezio regarded his brother. He was his best friend, his confidant, and the man who he trusted the most. Arthur was no longer the bloodlusting killer that he had been, thanks to the birth of Maria. He seemed more calm and centered, more responsible and caring than ever. Ezio admired this change in his brother, but would not tell him that at the present time.

Despite his constant claims that he was not interested in any high positions in the Brotherhood, many in the Brotherhood considered him Ezio's successor. His level air and his charisma were two of many attributes that he possessed that were required of a Mentor.

Ezio shrugged mentally. Now was not the time to think of such things.

* * *

><p>The two Assassins reached the quarter west of the enormous bulk of Hagia Sofia. I was glad for Piri's instructions, because we almost got lost in the labyrinth of streets and alleyways around it, but we were able to reach the location indicated on our map. A bookshop, and a Venetian name over the door of it.<p>

"Well, I'll be damned!" I said with a chuckle.

We entered, and found the young woman we had encountered on our voyage to Constantinople. Ezio looked like Christmas had come early, and I sighed in resignation.

Fantastic!

She greeted us warmly, but didn't seem to recognize either of us. She greeted us in Italian first, then in Turkish, and bade us to enter.

She was busying herself among her inventory, accidentally knocking over a stack of books. The bookstore was a picture of disorder, but I knew this was because it was only just opening.

"Ah!" she said. "Excuse the clutter. I have not had time to tidy up since my trip."

I smiled. "You sailed from Rhodes, ma'am?"

She looked at me in surprise. "Si. How did you know?"

Ezio answered, both of us bowing slightly. "We were on the same ship. My name is Ezio Auditore, and this is my brother in law, Arthur Auditore."

She nodded. "And I am Sofia Sartor. Feel free to look around. My best volumes are in the back."

The books were stacked in a maze of teetering wooden shelves as we delvep deeper into the dark confines of the shop.

"It's nice to meet fellow Italians in this district," Sofia said, following us. "Well," she amended, looking at me, "You do not look or sound like an Italian. English perhaps?" I nodded. Damn, this girl wasn't stupid!

"Indeed, ma'am." I answered, and Ezio chuckled. "It's good to meet you, too. But I thought the war between the Venice and the Ottoman Empire would have driven most Italians away. It was only seven or eight years ago, after all."

Sofia shrugged. "But Venice kept control of her islands in the White Sea, and everyone came to an arrangement, for the moment." She replied, and I responded, "So you stayed?"

She shrugged. "I lived here with my parents when I was a girl. True, when the war was on, we were pushed out, but I always knew I would return."

She hesitated. "You don't sound particularly English, with that odd accent of yours. Where are you from?"

I smiled. "You don't miss much, do you? I am from the countryside, up near Scotland."

She nodded, then repeated the question to Ezio.

"Florence." He responded.

"Ah." She said, her face neutral.

"Is that a problem?"

She shook her head. "I know some nice Florentines."

I raised my hand, sensing an argument brewing. "We are Italians, and that's all that matters." I was tired of the rivalry and dislike between Italian cities, and didn't stand for it in the Brotherhood.

She nodded. "Forgive me. There's even more stock in the rear courtyard."

She paused, watching us poke around, then said, "Look, nice as it is to talk to you - are you sure I can't help? You seem a bit lost."

Ezio glanced at me. "We're not really looking to be anything."

She huffed. "I'm not giving anything away for free, Messere."

I raised my hand, gesturing both to be silent. I had just moved a bookshelf from the back wall of the courtyard. The wall was thicker than the others, and I had noticed a crack that wasn't a crack at all.

"What the hell?" I muttered. It was part of a doorframe, artfully concealed. "

_Dio Mio_!" exclamed Sofia. "Who put that there?"

Ezio looked at her. "Has anyone ever moved these bookshelves before?"

She shook her head. "Never. They've been in place since before my father took over the shop, and before that, it had been in disuse for decades."

I nodded. "Interesting." I brushed dust and debris accumulated over what looked like more than decades away from the doorframe but found no handle or any other means of opening the door.

Then I remembered the secret door that led to the vault back in Monteriggioni, and felt around for a hidden catch.

Before long, the door swung open and inward. Within, steps the width of the wall led downward into blackness.

"This is incrdible," Sofia said, peering over Ezio's shoulder, who seemed to be enjoying the close proximity between them. "With your permission, Arthur will find out where it leads, while I stay with you, just in case." Ezio said to her, and she departed to get me a candle.

"Why me?" I asked, my arms folded, and my eyebrows raised.

Ezio gave me a crafty smile. "Somebody has to stay with her. Besides, if I recall correctly, I'm always the one that goes into underground places. You owe me one, at the very least."

I shrugged. "No arguments there, but don't give me that bullshit. You just wanted to stay with her, didn't you?"

We were interrupted by the woman in question, who gave me a candle and a tinderbox.

"Who are you, Messere?" She asked, looking into Ezio's eyes.

"Only the most interesting man in your life." He answered, and I had to hide my laughter with my fist in my mouth. Was that supposed to be some kind of catchphrase? Damn, he was rusty!

"Ah! Presumptous!" She said with a quick smile.

I rolled my eyes. "I'll be back before you know it. Don't do anything stupid!" I said with a chuckle as I descended the steps, from whose foot a tunnel led deep into the earth.

* * *

><p><strong>And cut! So what do you guys think? I will have Arthur doing most of the underground work, and I have an interesting idea as far as he is concerned. Read and review!<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I found myself in a system of underground cisterns. By the feeble light of the candle, I could make out barrel-vaulted roofs supported by row upon row of slender columns, decorated at their capitals with a variety of symbols, among which I recognized eyes. At their bases, some of them, showed the inverted heads of monstrous Gorgons.

"I'm underground, looking at wierd symbols, while Ezio is probably necking Sofia. It's like Christmas!" I muttered sarcastically.

I could recognize the place I must be in - the Yerebatan Sarnici. The great system of cisterns built below Istanbul. It had been built as a water-filtration system by Justinian a thousand years earlier. Were those morons even aware of how creepy this place looked? Maybe they did it on purpose, to scare off enemies?

I was all but daunted at the vast, cavernous space around me, which I judged, with a short exploration, to be as big as a cathedral. But I remembered that Polo had given some indication of where one key might be found. The directions had been deliberately obscure, but I remembered enough details of it to start poking around.

It was hard to make no noise at all, moving through the shallow water that covered the floor of the cistern, but with practice, I managed to reduce said noise. Besides, any sound I made was soon drowned out by the noise of the unsuspecting people I heard up ahead.

Evidently, I was not alone in my quest. Oh, joy!

There were lights up ahead as well. I doused my candle, and slinked forward toward them. Soon, I made out the forms of two Templar foot soldiers, sitting by a small fire in a dark passage.

I drew closer. My Greek was good enough to pick up most of what they were saying. The one who was speaking was pissed off, and not afraid to show it. Indeed, he seemed royally pissed! "Ti distihia (What misery)!" He was saying in aggrieved tones. "Do you know how long we've been searching this filthy cistern?"

"I've been here a few weeks," replied his quieter friend. "That's nothing! Try thirteen months! Ever since our Grand Master found that damned key!"

He calmed himself a little. "But he hasn't got a clue what he's doing. All he knows is that they're somewhere in the city." Under the direction of a sergeant, they continued looking for the thing, and I overheard other men talking about excavations and finding another key, saying they were one step ahead of us Assassins.

Damn it all to hell!

I sneaked past the second group of guards, and they and the lights faded away into blackness behind me.

I relit the candle, and continued along the corridor as it turned and divided into separate, alternative passageways. I had to retrace my steps occasionally, and I prayed that I would remember the way back out, before continuing down a passageway, and was rewarded with a small light at the end.

I followed it into a circular chamber with a domed roof. In the center of the chamber was a small stone stand, and on it rested a folded map.

I opened it and found it to be a plan of Constantinople, in infinite detail, with the Polo brothers' old trading post clearly marked at its center. Four lines divided up the map, and each demarcated section showed a landmark of the city. Around the margins of the map the title of twelve books were written, but of the twelve, four titles were each placed next to each sections of the map. The four books had their titles written in different colors.

"Interesting. Ezio and Sofia will probably be interested by this." I muttered, folding the map again and placing it in my satchel.

Then I turned my attention to what was placed at the center of the stone stand. It was a disc of carved stone, no more than four inches across. It was thin, tapering toward its outer edges, and made of a stone that looked obsidian.

It was pierced at its exact center by a precise circular hole, half an inch in diameter. Its surface was covered in designs, some of which I recognized from the Codex pages in Monterrigioni. A sun whose rays ended in outstretched hands extending toward a world; strange humanoid creatures, and what looked like mathematical symbols and calculations.

From this, the small light that had guided me to it emanated. I was careful in handling the thing because it reminded me of the Apple, and its glow intensified as I turned it over in my fingers.

"What the fuck-" I began, but a sunburst-like glow replaced the tiny glow, and the chamber I was in melted away.

* * *

><p>Somehow I was there, and not there. I had to be dreaming or in a trance. The date of the year of Our Lord 1189 floated through my consciousness, as I walked through swirling clouds and crisscrossing rays of unearthly light, which parted at last to reveal a mighty fortress at some distance away. It was Masyaf, and there were sounds of a battle. I saw cavalrymen and infantry locked in mortal combat.<p>

Then the sounds of a horse's hooves, as it approached at full gallop. A young Assassin, bearing a remarkable resemblance to Ezio, dressed in white hooded robes, riding like hell through the scene.

I had seen him before in my dreams: Altair Ibin-La'Ahad, my ancestor-in-law.

This was clearly a memory, most likely serving as a message for future Assassins!

Suddenly, I was Altair, or at least in his mind or point-of-view.

The young man charged through the gates, and into the midst of the skirmish. He cut down several Templars with very little difficulty, saving several of his, make that 'our,' fellow Assassins.

One of these staggered toward him, bloodied from the battle. "Altair!" he cried. "We have been betrayed! The enemy has overrun the castle!"

Altair looked at him, and they exchanged a none-too-friendly look. "That is grave news, Abbas. Where is Al Mualim?"

Abbas shook his head. "He was inside when the Crusaders broke through. We can do nothing for him now." Altair disagreed, and basically told Abbas to sit his ass down and stay back.

The looks and unfriendly words that passed between them made it obvious that they didn't like each other at all.

Altair galloped through scenes of destruction and chaos, all of which indicated that the Assassins were losing the battle. Altair met other Assassins trying to close the gates, and assisted them in doing so.

Altair made his way down the stone steps that led from the top of the gatehouse to the central courtyard of Masyaf.

A door to the Great Keep opened, and from it emerged a group of people A company of elite crusader infantrymen surrounded the Mentor of the Brotherhood, Al Mualim, who was being dragged by two of the thugs, looking only half conscious.

With them was a guy with the dagger, who Altair recognized.

A big, tough man with dark, unreadable eyes, and a deep, disfiguring scar on his chin. His thin hair was tied up in a black ribbon.

Haras.

Altair had always wondered where Hara's true loyalties had lain. An Assassin adept, he had never seemed satisfied with his rank in the Brotherhood. He was a man who sought an easy way to the top instead of one rightfully earned. Though a man with a well-deserved reputation as a fighter, he was a man who adapted his personality to others with power to gain their confidence. His ambitions had clearly got the better of him.

"Stand back, Altair!" He cried. "Another step, and your Mentor dies!"

At his voice, Al Mualim rallied. "Kill this wretch, Altair! I do not fear death!"

Altair clearly wanted the latter for Haras. "You won't leave this place alive, traitor!" He called to Haras, who laughed. "No! You misunderstand. I am no traitor."

He donned a Crusader helmet, and laughed again. "You see? I could never betray those I never truly loved." He said, advancing on Altair, who snorted. "Then you are doubly wretched, for you have been living a lie."

Suddenly, the shit hit the fan!

Haras drew his sword, and lunged toward Altair. At the same moment, Al Mualim attacked his guards.

Altair moved to kill the traitor with his Hidden Blade, and after a quick fight, plunged the dagger into the base of Hara's neck, just above the sternum. With a strangled cry, the traitor fell back. Altair stood over him, and their eyes met.

"You put too much faith in the hearts of men, Altair," he said. "The Templars know what is true. Humans are weak, base, and petty."

Altair shook his head. "No, Haras. Our Creed is evidence to the contrary. Try to return to it, even now, in your last hour. I beg you out of pity to redeem yourself."

Haras shook his head. "You will learn, Altair. And you will learn the hard way."

Nevertheless, Haras paused in thought. "Perhaps I am not wise enough to understand, but I suspect the opposite is true. I am too wise to believe such rubbish." Then, he relaxed in death.

* * *

><p>Shortly afterwards, the Templars were driven from Masyaf. Altair and Al Mualim took respite under a tree beside the Great Keep.<p>

The old man spoke up: "That man - that wretch, Haras - you offered him a last chance to salvage his dignity, to see the error of eays. Why?"

Altair shrugged. "No man should pass from this world without knowing some kindness, some chance of redemption."

The old man shook his head. "But he shunned what you proffered him."

Altair shrugged again. "That was his right."

Al Mualim smiled, and remarked that Altair had grown from a boy to a man, and that his father would have been proud.

Al Mualim placed a hand on his shoulder. "You, too, were born in this Order, this Brotherhood. Are there ever times when you regret it?"

Altair scoffed. "Mentor, how can I regret the only life I have ever known?"

Al Mualim nodded sagely. "You may find another way, in time, Altair. And when that time comes, it will be up to you to choose the path you prefer." Shortly afterwards, the memory ended.

* * *

><p>Bright sunshine, a white light so strong and all encompassing, that I was dazzled.<p>

I blinked to rid myself of the multicolored images, and when I opened them, found myself in the subterranean chamber, the soft light returning.

I found that I was still holding the stone disc in my hand, and realized that I had found the first key.

Now, it was time to get back to my two friends.

* * *

><p><strong>So, how was it? Some feedback would be nice, but it's your call to make! Safety and peace, readers!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Before I start this chapter, I apologize for making the scene at Masayf more brief than I perhaps should have done. I just found that the first memory didn't seem like it had any significance the the overall story. I will not be so brief with the remaining memories, so you guys don't need to worry about that in the future. Italian Yakuza, thanks for making your opinion known on that memory! Anyway, on with the story!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 8<p>

"Kids, I'm home!" I called jokingly as I emerged from the underground passage.

Excitedly, Sofia hurried over to me. "Arthur! _Salve_! I'd thought you were gone forever."

Ezio moved to stand beside her. "As did I. Did you find anything?"

I nodded. "You bet! Something that may interest both of you."

We walked over to a large table, which Sofia cleared of books as I produced the map I'd found and spread it out.

"_Dio mio_, how beautiful!" She exclaimed. "And look - there's my shop. In the middle."

Ezio smiled from beside me as I replied. "Yeah, it's on a very important site. But look at the margins."

She produced a pair of eyeglasses as Ezio traced his finger over them, both examining the margins closely. "Rare books, these. And what are the symbols surrounding them?"

I shrugged. "That's what I hope to find out."

She looked over the titles again. "Some of these books are really extremely rare. And a few of them haven't been seen for, well, more than a millennium! They must be worth a fortune."

I grunted, and Ezio spoke up. "Your shop is on the very sight of the trading post once run by the Polo brothers, Niccolo and Maffeo. Niccolo hid these books around the city. This map should tell us where if we can find out how to interpret it."

She took off her glasses and looked at him, intrigued. "Hmmn. You are beginning to interest me. Vaguely."

I laughed, as Ezio smiled, and it was he that spoke next. "From what I can see, from among the twelve titles, I need to find these three first."

I nodded. "What of the others?"

Ezio shrugged. "That remains to be seen. They may be deliberate red herrings. But I am convinced that these are the ones to concentrate on."

I nodded, and produced the round stone from my satchel. "I reckon the books contain clues about the locations of the rest of these."

Sofia donned her glasses, and peered at it as Ezio nodded. "The key to a library."

She frowned. "_Molto curioso_. It doesn't look like a key."

I shrugged. "Looks can be decieving, ma'am."

She looked up at me. "Sofia." She corrected with a smile, and I bowed. "As you wish. It's a special library. Another has been found already, beneath Topkapi Palace. But, God willing, there is still time to find the others."

She tilted her head to one side. "Found? By whom?"

I shrugged, thinking fast. "Men who do not read, and are driven by greed."

I winced as she laughed and as Ezio kicked me in my shins underneath the table, and then spoke to Sofia. "Sofia, do you think you could try to decipher this map? Help us find these books?"

She studied the map again for a few minutes in silence. Then she straightened and looked at us, smiling, a twinkle in her eye. "There are plenty of reference books in this shop. With their help, I think I can unravel this mystery. But on one condition: may I borrow the books when you've finished with them?"

Ezio looked amused. "I daresay we can work something out." With that, we took our leave.

* * *

><p>As we made our way back to our HQ, Ezio lit into me. "What the blazes were you thinking? You usually aren't so loose with your words!"<p>

I glared at him. "You still haven't told her about us? And you ask me what I'm thinking? If you want her in on this quest, you can't keep your damned cards so close to the chest! She needs to know what she's in for, and you won't be able to keep the truth from her for long, and you know it! For Dixie's sake! She isn't stupid. Hell, she could easily get a college degree in my old world."

Ezio sighed. "I will, when the time is right. You concentrate on your affairs, which is finding those keys."

I shrugged, and nodded. "As you wish, _Fratello_."

* * *

><p>The next day, Ezio and I met Yusuf near the Hippodrome in the southeast quarter of the peninsula. We found him conferring with a group of younger associates over a map they were studying, and the meeting broke up as we arrived.<p>

"Greetings, Mentor and Master." Yusuf said, rolling up the map. "If I'm not mistaken, there's a pleasant surprise in store. And if I'm not dead by this time tomorrow, we should have some good stories to trade."

I folded my arms. "Is there a chance of your being dead?"

Yusuf shrugged, looking grim. "We've had wind of a plan the Byzantines are hatching. Now that the young Prince Suleiman has returned from the _hajj_, they plan to infiltrate Topkapi Palace. They've chosen the evening to make their move."

Ezio frowned. "What's special about this evening?"

"There's an entertainment at the palace. A cultual event, an exhibition of paintings. And there'll be music."

Ezio nodded. "So what's our plan?"

Yusuf regarded us gravely. "My Brothers, this is not your fight. There is no need for you to ensnare yourself in Ottoman affairs."

Ezio shook his head. "Topkapi concerns us. The Templars found one of the keys to Altair's library beneath it, and we'd like to know how."

Yusuf frowned. "Our plan is to protect the prince, not interrogate him."

I spoke this time, as I could see Ezio was becoming annoyed. "Trust us, Yusuf. Just show us where to go."

Yusuf looked unconvinced, but said: "The rendezvous is at the main gate of the palace. We plan to disguise ourselves as musicians and walk right in with the authentic players. You'll need a costume and an instrument." He added.

"I used to play the lute." Ezio said. I shrugged when Yusuf looked at me. "I've played the guitar...er, the lute. And I can sing."

That was stretching the truth slightly, but I would make do.

Yusuf nodded. "We'll see what we can do. We will place the Mentor and the Master with the Italian musicians. Neither of you look Turkish enough to pass for one of us."

* * *

><p>By dusk, Ezio, me, Yusuf, and his picked team of Assassins, all dressed in formal costumes, had assembled at the main gate.<p>

"Do you like your getup?" asked Yusuf.

Ezio and I nodded, the former speaking quietly. "It's fine. But the sleeves are cut tight. There was no room for any concealed weapon."

I shrugged. "You can't play a lute in loose sleeves."

Ezio nodded, and Yusuf continued. "And we are armed. You mark any targets and leave it to us to take them out. Here's your instrument."

He gave us each a fine lute from one of his men, and Ezio and I tried ours.

"By Allah, you'll have to do better than that!" said Yusuf.

While Ezio said something about it being a long time since he had played, I briefly mentioned that there were some differences between the British and Turkish lute.

Lying was unpleasant, but telling the truth would have caused the shit to hit the fan, so I would stick with the former for now.

Yusuf grunted, and twitched in his costume. "I feel ridiculous in this outfit. I look ridiculous!"

I smiled. "The life of Assassin can be trying, but you have made a good job of it so far."

Yusuf reddened slightly, and Ezio chimed in. "You look just like all the other musicians, and that's the important thing. Now come on, the orchestra's assembling."

* * *

><p>Following a quick meet and greet with our "fellow performers," we made our way to the gate, where the Ottoman officials were checking people through.<p>

We literally had to bullshit our way through them, since they pulled us aside, and demanded us to play some cords.

We sucked at first, but after a moment, we got a standing O.

_Thank ol' Dixie for improvisation!_

Once inside, we found ourselves in the middle of a great throng.

A wide marble courtyard, partially covered like an atrium, glittered with light and color under the boughs of tamarinds.

Guests were wandering about as servants made their way between them with trays loaded with sweetmeats and refreshing drinks.

There were plenty of Ottoman gentry present, as well as diplomats and high-profile artists and businessmen from Italy, Serbia, the Peloponnese, Persia, and Armenia.

It wasn't going to be easy to detect or find Byzantine infiltrators in this rich-boys' assembly.

Speaking of which, we were mobbed with music-loving guests until our credentials were more or less confirmed, judging by the fact that the guards stopped giving us the ol' stink eye, and we were able to make contact with Yusuf and his team.

"Brilliant, Mentor and Master. But don't be seen talking to us, since it looks suspicious. Try to make your way to the second courtyard - the inner one - through there. I'll join you." Ezio and I nodded.

"And what can we expect there?" Ezio asked.

"The inner circle, the entourage of the prince. And if we are fortunate, Suleiman himself. But be on your guard. There may be danger there too." Yusuf finished, looking grim.

I gave him a dry look. "Danger never seems too far behind us Assassins." Yusuf shrugged, answering with a wordless chuckle.

It was considerably quieter in the second courtyard, but the decorations, the food and drink, and the quality of both music and art were slightly improved.

The three of us scanned the crowd.

"I don't see Prince Suleiman." Yusuf said, but I raised my hand. "Hold your horses! Listen!"

The orchestra struck up a fanfare, and the guests all turned expectantly toward a gateway in the center of the rear wall of the courtyard, draped with rich hangings. Costly silk Isfahan carpets were spread on the ground in front of it.

Moments later, a small group of people emerged, clustered around the two men who led them - each clad in a suit of white silk, one wearing a turban with diamond pins, the other a turban with emeralds.

"Ezio, check out the younger one." I said, as the one I indicated looked familiar.

Ezio looked, and he looked surprised as well. "That is Prince Suleiman," Yusuf told us. "Sultan Bayezid's grandson, and governor of Kefe. And he's only seventeen."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Well, I'll be damned. We met him on the ship to here, and he told us he was a student."

Yusuf shrugged. "I've heard he likes to travel incognito. It's also a security measure. He was returning from the h_ajj_."

I nodded. "Who is the other man? The one with emeralds in his turban?"

"His uncle, Prince Ahmet, the sultan's favored son. He is grooming himself for the succession as we speak."

As we watched, the two princes stood, and they accepted glasses, and used them to salute and toast the assembly.

After the formal toasts, we continued to watch, as both guests and hosts became more relaxed.

As Suleiman mingled, I noticed that his guards were discreetly but continually attentive. These guards were tall, and none of them looked Turkish. They wore a distinctive uniform of white robes, and their headgear was a high, white, tapering cap, like that of a dervish. All wore mustaches, but not beards.

According to Ottoman custom, these guys were slaves, perhaps some sort of bodyguards.

Suddenly, Yusuf caught both of our arms. "Look! That man over there!"

A thin, pale young man with fine, light-colored hair and dark brown eyes had sidled up close to Suleiman. He was expensivly dressed and might have been a prosperous arms dealer, or at least somebody of high rank to get into this kind of party.

As I quickly scanned the crowd, I noticed four other similar-looking guys who were giving each other.

Before we could react, the young man stabbed at Suleiman's chest with a dagger, but one of the guards noticed and jumped into the blade's path.

There was instantaneous chaos and confusion.

Guests were roughly pushed aside as guards ran in to assist their prince and comrade, while the five Templar would-be killers tried to get the hell out of dodge through the crowd.

The first man had vanished, but his homies had been identified by the guards, and were now being chased by the same.

Exits were sealed, but that didn't stop the Templars from trying to climb out of the courtyard.

In the confusion, Prince Ahmet had disappeared, but Suleiman stood his ground, a small dagger in his hand.

"Stop him, Arthur!" Ezio said, pointing to the young assassin, who had just reappeared, advancing on the remaining prince.

I was far closer than my other two friends, so it was up to me to save the prince.

But I had no weapon!

I looked down at my lute, and smashed it against a nearby column with very little regret, leaving me with a sharp shard of wood in my hand.

I sprang foward, seized the Byzantine by his bony wrist and forcing him away from the prince. A second after this, I drove the shard a good few inches into the man's left eye, and the guy dropped instantly.

I heard another shriek, and turned to see Ezio slamming his own lute into the face of another Byzantine who seemed intent on killing the prince.

The crowd fell silent, forming a circle around me, my brother, and Suleiman at a respectful distance. The guards tried to intervene, but Suleiman stayed them with a gesture.

The prince sheathed his own dagger and took a small breath. Then he took a small step towards Ezio and I, a signal honor of a prince. "It is good to see you again, _mio bel_ _menestrelli_. Did I say that right?"

I laughed. "'My handsome minstrels.' Very good."

The prince nodded. "It is a pity about your lutes. So much more beautiful an instrument than a sword."

Ezio stepped up beside me. "You are right. But it does not save lives."

The prince shrugged. "Some would argue that."

I smiled. "True, in some circumstances."

The three of us exchanged a smile, before I said, "I hear you are a governor as well as a prince. I'm starting to wonder what you can't do."

Suleiman bowed, or rather, inclined his head slightly. I am Suleiman Osman."

Ezio and I bowed in return. "Ezio and Arthur Auditore, at your service," Ezio replied.

Just then, one of the white-clad gaurds approached, a sergeant. "Forgive me, my prince. On behalf of your uncle, we must have your assurance that you are uninjured."

"Where is he?"

"He awaits you."

Suleiman gave him a cold look. "Tell him that, thanks to these men, I _am_ uninjured. And _no thanks_ to you! You, the Janissaries! The elite guard, and you fail me, a prince of the royal house, like this! Where is your captain?"

The man looked slightly put out. "Tarik Barleti is away on an errand."

The prince was royally pissed, in every sense of the word. "On an errand? Do you really wish to show yourselves such amateurs in front of these strangers?"

Suleiman drew himself up as the guard, a muscular giant who must have weighed three hundred pounds, trembled before him. "Clear this body away and send the guests home. Then summon Tarik to the Divan!"

Turning back Ezio and I after the man booked it, Suleiman said: "This is embarrassing. The Janissaries are the bodyguard of the Sultan."

Ezio raised an eyebrow. "But not of his family?"

The prince grimaced. "On this occasion, it would appear not."

Suleiman paused, giving us a appraising look. "Now, I don't wish to impose on your time, but there is something I would like your opinion on. Something important."

Yusuf was signaling to us from the edge of the crowd, now slowly dispersing.

"Allow us to simply change out of these costumes." Ezio said, signaling back discreetly.

The prince nodded. "Very well. There's something I need to arrange first in any case. Meet me by the Divan when you are ready. My attendants will escort you." He clapped his hands and departed the way he had come.

* * *

><p>"That was quite a performance," Yusuf said, as we made our way out of the palace in the company of two of Suleiman's personal attendant. "But you've given us an introduction we would never had dreamed possible."<p>

I smiled. "It's not every day you show up the royal guard. Speaking of similar things, did you guys notice that Ahmet made himself scarce a little too quickly after that fracas started?"

Yusuf frowned, but Ezio nodded. "You bring up a good point, but now, we should concentrate on our meeting with the prince."

I nodded. "Now we can finally get out of these ridiculous uniforms!"

* * *

><p><strong>And there you are! My apologies for taking so long, but I've been concentrating on other stories as well, so I've had to balance them out. Let me know what you guys think of this chapter!<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Suleiman was already waiting when Ezio and I joined him outside the Divan, the council chamber, of the palace a short time later. The young man was looking poised and alert.

"I have arranged a meeting with my uncle, Prince Ahmet, and Captain Tarik Barletti," he announced, wasting no time. "There is something I should explain first. The Janissaries are loyal to my grandfather, but they have become angry over his choice for the next sultan."

I nodded. "Ahmet."

He returned the nod. "Exactly. The Janissaries favor my father, Selim."

Ezio considered this, but not before treading on my toes to stop me from making my patented sarcastic comment in reply to unexpected difficulties. "You are in a tough spot. But how do the Byzantines fit into this?" Ezio asked.

Suleiman shook his head. "I was hoping you might be able to give me some guidance on that. Would you both be willing to help me find out?"

I cleared my throat. "We'd be honor to assist you, as long as our interests do not conflict. We were tracking the scumbags anyway."

Suleiman smiled enigmatically. "Then I must accept what I can get."

He paused, then continued. "Listen, there is a hatch at the top of the tower you see over there. Go up and lift the hatch. You will be able to see and hear everything that is said in the Divan."

We nodded, taking our leave as Suleiman turned and entered the Divan himself.

* * *

><p>By the time we had reached our vantage point, the discussion in the council chamber below had already begun and was already becoming heated.<p>

The three men involved sat or stood around a long table, covered with Bergama carpets.

Behind the table, a tapestry depicting Bayezid, flanked by his sons, hung on the wall.

_ 'How sweet_!' I thought sarcastically, but the scene in front of said tapestry was anything but sweet.

Ahmet, a vigorous man in his midforties, with short, dark brown hair and a full beard, currently bareheaded and changed into rich garments of red, green, and white, was in the middle of a tirade: "Heed my nephew, Tarik. Your incompetence borders on treason. To think that today your Janissaries were outshone by two Italian lute players! It is preposterous!"

Tarik Barleti, the lower half of his battle-scarred face lost in a grizzled beard, looked grim. "An inexcusable failing, efendim. I will conduct a full investigation."

Suleiman cut in. "It is _I_ who will conduct the investigation, Tarik. For reasons that should have been obvious."

Barleti nodded. "_Evet, Sehzadem_ (prince). Clearly you have your father's wisdom."

Ahmet shot the captain a furious glance at that, while Suleiman retorted: "And his impatience."

He turned to his uncle, his tone formal. "_Sehzad_ Ahmet, I am at least relieved to see that you are safe."

"Likewise, Suleiman. May Allah protect you."

Suleiman, I could see, was playing some kind of game. As we watched, the young prince rose and summoned his attendants. "I will take my leave for now," he said. "And I will make my report on this disgraceful incident very soon, you may be sure of that."

Accompanied by his retinue and guard, he strode from the Divan.

Barleti was about to follow suit, but Ahmet detained him. "Tarik _bey_, a word?"

The soldier turned, and I could sense the unpleasentness in the room rise exponentially.

There was no love lost between these two men.

Ahmet spoke cordially and lightly, but I could sense the anger in his voice. "What was the purpose of this attack, I wonder? To make me look weak? To make me appear an ineffective steward of this city?"

He paused. "If that was your plan, my dear captain; if you had a hand in this mess, you have made a grave mistake! My father has chosen me as the next sultan, not my brother!" The grizzled veteran didn't react, his face expressionless, almost bored.

At last, he said, "Prince Ahmet, I am not depraved enough to imagine the conspiracy you accuse me of."

I had to stuff my fist into my mouth to stop myself from bursting into laughter, Ezio's kick to my shins further enhancing the silencing effect.

Ahmet took a step back though his tone remained level and affable. "What have I done to earn such contempt from the Janissary Corps? What has my brother done for you that I have not?"

Tarik hesitated, then said: "May I speak freely?"

Ahmet spread his hands. "You'd better, I think."

Tarik faced him. "You are weak, Ahmet. Pensive in times of war and restless in times of peace. You lack passion for the traditions of the _Ghazi_ - the Holy Warriors - and you speak of fraternity in the company of infidels."

He paused. "You would make a decent philosopher, Ahmet, but you will be a poor sultan."

I could have boiled an egg on Ahmet's face at that particular moment, and I admired the brass of this captain.

Ahmet snapped his fingers, and his own bodyguard came to attention behind him. "You may show yourself out," he told Tarik, and his voice was like ice.

* * *

><p>We were still watching, as, a few minutes later, Ahmet himself swept out of the Divan.<p>

A moment later, we were joined by Prince Suleiman. "Quite a family, eh?" asked the prince. "Don't worry. I was listening, too."

I folded my arms. "Your captain's got some balls. I'd love to have him watching my ass."

Despite my jocular mood, Ezio didn't share it. "Your uncle lacks sway over the very men he will soon command. Why did he not cut that man down where he stood, for such insolence?"

I grinned at Ezio. "Quit being such a stiff-ass! That was fun to watch."

"Tarik is a hard man," replied the prince, spreading his hands, all while keeping an admirably straight face. I would have hated to play poker against him.

"Capable, but ambitious. And he admires my father greatly."

I shrugged. "As much as I admire him for going after your brother, he failed his duty, and failed to stop a Byzantine attempt on your life. In y'all's inner sanctum, no less! I suppose that alone is worthy of investigation."

Ezio nodded. "Exactly, _fratellino_."

He turned to the prince, who was also nodding. "So - where should we begin?"

Suleiman considered, and Ezio and I glanced at each other, almost certainly thinking the same thing: an old head on very young shoulders.

Suleiman said, "For now, we'll keep an eye on Tarik and his Janissaries. They spend much of their free time in and around the Bazaar. Can you handle that - you and your...associates?" He phrased the last word delicately.

I looked at Ezio, remembering that Yusuf had warned us not to get involved in Ottoman politics, but it seemed as though our quest and this power struggle looked connected. Evidently, Ezio thought so to, because he assured the prince that they would not do anything without our knowing about it.

* * *

><p>Having ensured that Yusuf and the Assassins of Constantinople had been fully briefed on their new job, we made our way down to the southern docks of the city to collect bomb-making materials from a list compiled for us by Piri Reis.<p>

After doing so, we noticed Sofia in the crowd thronging the quays. She was talking to a man who looked Italian, perhaps our own age.

As we approached her, I saw that she was more than a little annoyed with the man.

Ezio seemed to recognize him, and then I did too. It was Duccio Dovizi, the man who had two-timed Claudia before I came into the picture. I'd never seen him in person, but Ezio had described him accurately enough.

Besides breaking Claudia's heart, I remembered that he had taunted Ezio about her while I was injured from our encounter with Cesare, calling my wife many things I won't tell of.

I had sworn to kill him, after Ezio had told me about the encounter, but I had been to weak to do anything about it.

This _asshole_ was going down!

He had not aged well, but that didn't stop him from pestering Sofia. "Mia cara," he was saying to her, "the strings of Fate have drawn us together. Two Italians, lost and alone in the Orient. Do you not feel the magnetismo (magnetism)?"

Sofia, bored and increasingly annoyed, replied: "I feel many things, Messere, nausea above all!"

Ezio gave me a slight nod, indicating that I had the green light to lay his ass out, then he called to Sofia: "Is this man bothering you, Sofia?"

Fuming at this interruption, the man I hated beyond all others, except my father, turned to Ezio. "Excuse me, Messere, but the lady and I are-"

He trailed off, recognizing Ezio. "Ah! _Il diavolo_ in person! Stay back!"

I made my move. I leaped foward, and shoved him to the ground.

"Duccio, what a pleasure to see you again." Ezio said, both of us standing over him, my boot on his chest.

"May I introduce Arthur Auditore, the man who married my sister?"

Duccio went white, and I smiled down at him. "What a pleasure to meet the man who broke her heart, then insulted her in the streets of Rome. You, my friend, are _fucked_!"

I dragged him to his feet, and smiled cheerfully at Sofia. "Nice to see you again, Sofia, but you must excuse me. I must take this dog somewhere, as scum like this deserves whatever I am about do to him. C'mon, you disgusting parasite!"

I dragged him furthur along the jetty, and found a pig sty out of Sofia's eye-sight. I slammed a fist into his diaphram, and he tumbled into the smelly mess.

"The strings of Fate, indeed!" I said, smashing his nose with a kick. Then I landed punch after punch on every bit of his flesh that I could reach. "That's for Claudia, and that's for every girl you have touched, you fucking stupid bastard! YOU _FUCKING _STUPID BASTARD!"

After beating him to a pulp, I stood over my prey, breathing deeply. _Madre_ Maria and Uncle Mario were dead, and this mewling lecher was still alive, and the injustice of it staggered me.

I would like to say, for the sake of whoever is reading this, that I regretted it after a time, but I never did.

After a long moment, I finished him with my Hidden Blade, a cold calm settling over me, the red mist leaving my vision.

It had been a mercy to kill him, I thought, glad of the gauntlets protecting my hands, since my hands would have been a mess without them.

But I had duties to attend to, and I was done with him.

"I would say 'rest in peace,' but that would be giving you more than you deserve. Peace is too good for the likes of you. Tell the devil I sent you!"

* * *

><p>I found Ezio and Sofia waiting for me, still in the same place where I had left them.<p>

"That didn't take long." Ezio observed, and I shrugged. "He didn't put up much of a fight."

Sofia said nothing, and I was surprised to see that she didn't seem to care. Duccio must have really annoyed her.

Ezio turned back to her. "What brings you to these docks?"

Sofia sighed. "I took a break from the shop to collect a package, but the customs people here claim that the ship's papers are not in order. So, I wait."

Ezio and I exchanged a look, then looked around the harbor, getting a sense of its layout.

"It's such a bother," Sofia continued. "I could be here all day."

Ezio and I exchanged a look, and I nodded to him.

I had time to kill..._literally_.

"We'll take care of this, Sofia. We know a few ways of bending the rules." Ezio said, as I cracked my knuckles.

I had a feeling that Ezio and myself were going to whup some ass.

Sofia raised an eyebrow. "Do you now? Well, I must say I admire your bravado."

She rummaged in her bag, handing my brother the package. "Please take care of it, since it is valuable. If, that is, you manage to get away from them."

Ezio and I nodded, and before she left, she pecked Ezio on the cheek. "Thank you!"

* * *

><p>We watched her go for a moment, then made our way to the large wooden building that held the customs offices.<p>

Inside, there was a long counter and, behind it, shelves containing large numbers of packages and parcels. Near the front of one of the lower shelves closest to the counter, I could see a wooden map tubes with a label attached to it: SOFIA SARTOR.

"Bingo," I said, pointing.

"May I help you?" asked a portly official, coming up to us.

"Yes, if you please. We've come to collect that package over there." Ezio said, pointing.

The clerk looked across. "Well, I'm afraid that's out of the question! All those parcels and packages have been impounded pending paperwork clearance."

I tapped the desk impatiently with my fingertips. "And how long would that take? Hours? Days?"

The clerk shrugged. "That all depends. Of course...for a consideration...something might be arranged..."

I smiled at him dangerously. "Okay, you officious screw-head, listen up! We are on a tight schedule, and have very little patience to play nice. Now fork it over, or else!"

The clerk snorted. "I do not think you understood me correctly-"

Ezio lost his patience. "To hell with that!"

The clerk became less friendly. "Are you trying to impede me in my duties? Get out of the way, and don't come back if you know what's good for-"

He didn't have time to finish the sentence, as I knocked him out with one punch.

Ezio eased the man's body to the floor, so that the noise wouldn't alert others.

"Excellent timing, as ever." Ezio said, as we left the place a few minutes later, her parcel in our possession.

"Eh, what can I say? The dick had it coming."

Ezio nodded. "That's the only way to deal with petty officialdom," He said contentedly.

With that, we dissapeared into the twisting labyrinth of streets.

* * *

><p><strong>And cut! How was it, guys? I've yet to receive many reviews on ANY of my stories. When I see reviews, I will know that you actually give a damn, so lay it on me. As to that scene with Duccio, it was hilarious in the game, but I wanted Arthur to give him what was coming to him: a grade-A ass kicking of a lifetime. I was also trying to show the dark side of being an Assassin, the murder, the anger, the pent-up emotion, yada yada yada. I wanted Arthur to show that he isn't a particularly nice person, especially if you diss Claudia. I mean, face it: you kind of have to be a little psychopathic to be an Assassin! Anywhoosle, let me know what yinz think! Bear in mind, I need to know you guys care. Thanks! <strong>


	10. Chapter 10

War Sage: Thanks for your review. There's better coming!

Chapter 10

Toward noon, we entered the bookshop west of Haghia Sofia.

She looked up as we came in. The shelves were far more orderly now than they had been when we had first visited. In the back room, we could see her worktable, with our map from the cisterns neatly laid out alongside a number of thick books of reference.

"Salute, Ezio and Arthur," she said. "That was alot quicker than I expected. Any luck?"

I held up the wooden map tube and read from the label: "_Madamigella Sofia Sartor, libraria, Costantinopoli_.' Unless there is another another Sofia around here, I do believe it is you, correct?"

Smiling, I handed over the tube, and she took it eagerly, then perused it, frowning at a small blotch of dried blood near the middle of the tube.

"Aw, shi-OW!" I yelped, as my cuss was cut off my Ezio's foot crushing mine.

Sofia giggled, surprising both of us. "Well, no use moaning about it. So far so good."

She continued as she took the map from the tube and spread it across the table.

It was a copy of a map of the world. "Isn't it beautiful?" she said.

"Indeed." Ezio said, but I wasn't listening, my hands tracing the map where America was shown.

Memories of my childhood flooded through me, old memories that I had pushed away when confronted with my parent's treachery.

I could hear the other two remarking over the land, but I was still fixated on the world and the life that I had left behind.

We were in the sixteenth century now, and the Spanish conquests were probably already beginning, millions of lives extinguished for gold and power, just like the last century, and the centuries before that.

My hand stopped at the place where West Virginia would be created by people who were adverse to the Southern plantations and slavery, a state founded in the middle of the Civil War, a place of freedom and justice.

"Mankind will make mistakes, but they will get some things right. Within a short time, a new world will be created, a city on a hill that the Old World will look to. America, the land of the free, and the home of the brave."

I did not realize I had spoken until I looked up to see Ezio and Sofia staring at me in surprise.

"Forgive my ramblings. They are nothing but words." I said with a smile, but Sofia pointed to my hand, that was still resting on the spot where West Virginia would be.

"Have you been there?" She asked, as I removed my hand as if burned.

Ezio's face was stony, his eyes watching my every move. I had spoken of home only to him, Claudia, and Maria. I could almost hear his teeth grinding together.

"For a short time. I traveled along some mountains there, a gorgeous valley of woods and streams." I said, then closed my mouth. That would be enough for now, more of that later...much later.

"Well, you honored your promise," Sofia said, smiling at us, her eyes telling me that the previous conversation would not be forgotten, and would be continued when the time was right. "And here is mine fulfilled."

She led the way to the inner room and picked a piece of paper up from the table. "If I am correct, this should show you the location of the first book."

I took the paper from her and read what was on it.

"I must admit," Sofia went on. "My head is swimming at the prosepect of actually seeing these books. They contain knowledge the world has lost and should have again."

She sat at the table and cupped her chin in her hands, daydreaming. "Perhaps I could have a few copies printed to distribute myself. A small run of fifty or so, that should be enough..."

I smiled, and Ezio laughed gently.

"What is there to laugh about?" Sofia asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Ezio covered his mouth. "Forgive me. It is a joy to see someone with a passion so personal and so noble. It is...inspiring."

I had to fight back laughter of my own, as Sofia reddened. "Goodness! Where is this coming from?"

_Damned good question_! However, I decided to bail my brother out of trouble...again!

"I intend to get to the bottom of this thing immediatley." I said, holding up the piece of paper. Ezio and I gave her a bow, and excused ourselves.

What a pair of strange men, Sofia thought, still blushing from the complement she had recieved from the handsome Ezio.

* * *

><p>"Have you lost your mind?!" Once we were out of earshot of the crimson-haired librarian, Ezio lit into me.<p>

"So I made a mistake, big fucking deal." I said, shrugging.

"Yes, it is a_ cazzo_ big deal! What possessed you to turn into some kind of damned prophet? Who are you, Minerva?" Ezio finished, and I rolled my eyes.

"So I made a mistake. It was bound to happen sooner or later. It won't happen again, _Fratello_, I promise."

With a curt nod, Ezio departed, heading for our HQ, and I couldn't resist getting the last word in.

"While you are at HQ, I'd come up with better pick-up lines to get Sofia hooked. But you know what say: you can't teach an old dog new tricks!"

I chuckled at his parting obscene hand gesture, and followed Sofia's calculations, which turned out to be correct.

Why was I not surprised?

I shuddered as I thought what Claudia, Maria, and Sofia would get up to.

The former two were as beautiful as they were impetuous and harsh of temper, while Sofia had the brains that would rival the best of philosophers and mathmeticians at home in West Virginia.

* * *

><p>Hidden behind a wooden panel in an old, deserted building in the Constantine District of the city, I found the book that I was looking for.<p>

Who the hell put these books around this city in these kinds of places, anyway?

It was an ancient but well-preserved copy of On Nature, the poem written over two thousand years ago by the Greek philosopher Empedocles, outlining the sum of the old guy's thoughts.

I lifted the book from its hiding place and blew the dust from the small volume. Then I opened it to a blank page at the beginning of the volume.

As I watched, the page began to glow, and within the glow, a map of Constantinople shimmered to life.

I could see a pinpoint on the map. It showed the Maiden Tower, the lighthouse on the far side of the Bospherus, and as I looked closer at it, a precise spot within the cellars built into its foundations.

If all went well, this would be the location of the second key to Altair's library at Masyaf.

I made my way through the teeming city to the Maiden Tower. Slipping past the Ottoman guards and crossing over in a 'borrowed' boat, I found a doorway from which steps led downward into the cellars.

I held the book in my hand, and realized that it was guiding me through a maze of corridors lined with innumerable doorways.

"Always follow the light, even if it's from an ancient book."

It didn't take me long to find the following glowy disk, and as the numbers '1191' flashed in front of my eyes, I muttered: "Wherever you are, you man-whore, you owe me one...again!"

* * *

><p><strong>And that's a wrap! How was it? I was going to have it longer, but I figured that this would be a good place to start. Anywhoosle, I'll update my stories when I can, although I will be quite busy for a while, owing to the fact that this is my last term in my Senior year. Ta ta!<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

War Sage: Thanks for your review. I'll do my best!

Chapter 11

Masyaf...again, for the love of Pete. _Sonuvabitch!_

Figures swirling in mist, a young man and an old man emerging from it. The former Altair, the latter Al Mualim. The latter was dying, the former having kicked the latter's old ass.

He lay on the ground; Altair knelt astride him. The old man's hand, losing its strength, let go of something, which rolled from his grasp and came to rest on the marble floor. The Apple of Eden!

"You held fire in your hand, old man." My brother's ancestor was saying. "It should have been destroyed."

The old guy laughed. "Destroyed? The only thing capable of ending the Crusades and creating true peace? Never."

Altair snorted. "Then I will destroy it."

* * *

><p>The images faded, dissolved, only for another scene to replace them.<p>

Within the Great Keep at Masyaf, Altair stood alone with one of his captains. Near them, laid out in honor on a stone bier, was the body of Al Mualim.

"Is it truly over? Is the sorcerer dead?" The Assassin captain was saying.

Altair turned to look at the body. "He was no sorcerer. Just an ordinary man, in command of...illusions."

I snorted. _That sounded like a sorcerer to me!_

Altair turned to his comrade. "Have you prepared the pyre?"

"I have." The man hesitated. "But, Altair, some of the men...they will not stand for such a thing. They are restive."

Altair bent over the bier, stooped, and took the old man's body in his arms. "Let me handle it."

He stood erect, his robes flowing about him. _Damn, he really did look like my brother-in-law!_

"Are you fit to travel?" He asked the captain.

"Well enough, yes."

"I have asked Malik Al-Sayf to ride to Jerusalem with the news of Al Mualim's death. Will you ride to Acre and do the same?"

The man nodded. "Of course."

"Then go, and God be with you."

The captain inclined his head and departed.

Bearing the dead Mentor's body in his arms, his successor strode out to confront the rest of the Brotherhood.

At his appearance, there was an immediate babel of voices, reflecting the bewilderment in their minds. Some asked themselves if they were dreaming. Others were aghast at this physical confirmation of Al Mualim's passing.

"Altair! Explain yourself!"

"How did it come to this?"

"What has happened?"

One Assassin shook his head. "My mind was clear, but my body...it would not move!"

In the midst of this cacophony, Abbas appeared, his childhood friend, but not so much of a good friend these days. Too much had happened between them. "What has happened here?" asked Abbas, sounding shocked.

"Our Mentor has deceived us all," Altair replied. "The Templars corrupted him."

Abbas didn't look convinced. "Where is your proof of that?" Abbas responded.

"Walk with me, Abbas; and I will explain."

"And if I find your answers wanting?"

"Then I will talk until you are satisfied."

* * *

><p>They made their way toward the funeral pyre, Altair carrying the body meant to be on said pyre.<p>

Beside Altair, Abbas, unaware of their destination, remained testy, tense, and combative, unable to disguise his mistrust for Altair. Altair knew the reason for that and regretted it. But he would do his best.

"Do you remember, Abbas, the artifact we recovered from the Templar Robert de Sable, in Solomon's Temple?"

"You mean the artifact you were sent to retrieve but others actually delivered?"

Altair let that go. "Yes. It is a Templar tool. It is called the Apple of Eden. Among many powers, it can conjure illusions and control the minds of men, while the man thinks he controls it. A deadly weapon."

_You ain't just whistling Dixie, Ancestor-in-law!_

Abbas shrugged. "Then better, surely, that we have it than the Templars."

I rolled my eyes. _Boromir thought alone the same lines, and look what happened to him, dumbass! Oh, right, he doesn't know about Boromir._

Altair shook his head. "That makes no difference. It seems to corrupt all who wield it."_ Bravo, Altair! Shades of Aragorn right there!_

Abbas looked skeptical. "And you believe that Al Mualim fell under its spell?"

Altair made an impatient gesture. "I do! Today, he used the Apple in an attempt to enslave Masyaf. You saw that for yourself."

Abbas still didn't look convinced. "I do not know what I saw."

"Listen, Abbas. The Apple is safe in Al Mualim's study. When I am finished here, I will show you all I know."

* * *

><p>They had arrived at the pyre, and Altair ascended the steps to it, placing the body of his late Mentor reverently at its top.<p>

As he did so, Abbas looked aghast. It was his first sight of the pyre. "I cannot believe you really intend to go through with this!" He said in a shocked voice.

Behind him, the assembled Brotherhood watched.

"I must do what I must do." Altair replied, and lighted the pyre. "I must know that he cannot return."

"But this is not our way! To burn a man's body is forbidden!"

At the Brotherhood's general protests, Altair turned to the restive below him. "Hear me out! This corpse could be just another one of Al Mualim's phantom bodies! I must be certain!"

"Lies!" Abbas yelled. _Asshat, STFU_!

As the flames took hold on the pyre, he stepped close to Altair's side, raising his voice so all could hear them. "All your life you have made a mockery of our creed! You bend the rules to suit your whims while belittling and humiliating those around you!"

A fight between supporters of Altair and Abbas erupted, as Abbas shoved Altair into the melee, the former heading for the castle. Altair struggled to find his feet among his clashing brothers.

_Uh, hello, get control!_

"Brothers!" He shouted, trying to restore order. "Stop! Stay your blades!"

But the fight continued, and Altair, who had just risen to his feet in time to see Abbas returning to the fortress, was forced to struggle among his own men, disarming them where he could and exhorting them to desist.

Suddenly, the fight was interrupted by a searing flash of light, which caused the combatants to stagger back, shielding their eyes.

_Aw, shit, it was the freaking Apple!_ I knew that damned light all to well.

It came from the direction of the castle, where, on the parapet of a tall tower, stood Abbas, the Apple in his hand.

_Could this get any more SNAFU?_

"What did I tell you, Altair?" Abbas yelled down at Altair.

"Abbas, stop!"

"What did you think was going to happen when you murdered our beloved Mentor?"

"You loved Al Mualim less than anyone! You blamed him for all your misfortune, even your father's suicide!"

"My father was a _hero_!" Abbas screamed defiantly.

Altair ignored him, and turned hastily to the Assassins group questioningly around him. "Listen! This is not the time to quarrel over what's been done. We must decide now what is to be done with _that weapon!_" He pointed to where Abbas was standing, holding the Apple aloft.

_Running like hell would be a good start_!

"Whatever this artifact is capable of, Altair," Abbas cried, "you are not worthy to wield it!"

_Oh, and I suppose you are, numbnuts?_

"No man is!" Altair hurled back.

But Abbas was already staring into the Apple's glow. The light, as he looked, intensified. Abbas seemed entranced. "It is beautiful, is it not?" He said, only just loudly enough to be heard.

Then a change came over him. His expression was transformed from a smile of amused triumph to a grimace of horror. He began to shake violently, as the power of the Apple swept into him, taking him over.

_Fan-fragging-tastic_!

Assassins both for and against the stupid prick were thrown to their knees, clutching their heads in agony.

Altair raced toward Abbas, scaling the tower with supernatural speed, driven by desperation.

As he approached his former friend, Abbas began to scream as if his very soul was being ripped out of him.

_Serves you right, douchbag!_

Altair made one final leap forward, disabling said douchbag and knocking him down. Abbas crumpled to the ground with a despairing cry, as the Apple tumbled from his grasp, sending a final violent shock wave from the tower as it did so.

* * *

><p>Then there was silence.<p>

The Assassins spread out below gradually pulled themselves together and got to their feet. They looked at one another in wonderment, asking each other what happened to the two people central to this most present conflict.

One of said people, Altair, appeared alone on the parapet. The wind blew his white robes around him. He raised his hand to show that he was carrying the Apple, which appeared to be under control again.

"Forgive me..." Abbas was gasping from the flagstone behind him. He could barely form the words. "I did not know..."

Altair turned his gaze back from the man to the Apple, resting in his hand. _Now would be a good time to get rid of the cancer, now that he was at your feet, Altair!_

"Have you anything to teach us?" said Altair, addressing the Apple as if it were a person. "Or will you lead us all to ruin?"

_ Fuck the Apple, Altair, kill the dumbass at your feet_! The wind then seemed to blow up a dust storm, or was it the return of the swirling fumes of cloud that had heralded the vision? With it came the blinding light that had preceded it, growing and growing, until all else was blotted out.

And then it dimmed once more, until there was just the gentle glow of the key in my hand.

* * *

><p>Exhausted, I lowered myself to the floor and rested my back against the stone wall of the chamber. Outside, dusk would be falling.<p>

I wanted to get some shut-eye, but I couldn't just sleep here in this damned chamber.

After a long moment, I raised myself again and, carefully stowing both the key and the copy of Empedocles in my satchel, made my way to the streets above. The former was for Ezio, the latter my bro's beau.

All I left with was information and a shitload of questions!

* * *

><p><strong>And cut! That's all for one chapter, guys! Apologies for taking so long, but I am working forty hours a week, so time is limited. On top of that, I'm starting to write a novel or two, but I'll update my fan fiction stories when I can. Read and review, knuckleheads, <em>sil vous plais<em>! **


	12. Chapter 12

War Sage: Thanks for your second review. You rock! People like you keep me going.

Chapter 12

At dawn the next day, Ezio and I made our way to the Grand Bazaar, and shopping wasn't the reason for us being there. I had already sent gifts to my girls before this, and we were there to get info on this Captain, Tarik Barleti. The problem was, said info was hard to get.

The various shopkeepers weren't squealing, as there were Janissaries skulking around the place, and also due to the fact that they couldn't stop trying to sell us something.

"Well, that was a waste of time." I growled, after trying the shopkeepers.

"We must think of something. Time is of the essence." Ezio urged, and I smiled as an idea occurred to me. "Let's go straight to his boys for info."

Ezio gave me a nonplussed look. "Why in hell would they tell you anything?"

I tapped my nose with my finger. "For one thing, they won't expect me to ask them. Secondly, it will be the way I ask them that will throw them off as well."

I lowered my hood, messed up my hair a little, trying to make it look like I had just gotten my ass kicked, and walked over to the nearest Janissary. "Oi, you!"

The man stared at me through his mask, as I stepped up to him.

"I am a Prince of England, and some of your fellow Janissaries just man-handled me, and threatened my brother when he tried to interfere on my behalf. I demand to know where your commanding officer is!" I said, in a passable snobby voice that had a clear English accent, pointing at Ezio and finishing by poking the guard in the chest.

The man looked down at me for a moment, and then replied. "Go to a small square that has a coffee shop on each corner, that way." He added, pointing north. With a huff, I grabbed Ezio, and started out that way.

As we did so, Ezio shook his head. "That was luck."

I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, smiling smugly. "I'm just keeping up appearances."

Ezio snorted, shoving me playfully. "Someday, your play-acting won't get you any results."

I chuckled. "But until then, the actor works the magic, while the older brother shuts his cake-hole!" (**Yes, I did borrow that from _Supernatural_**!)

* * *

><p>Making our way through the Bazaar, which was no small task, let me say that, we were eventually able to arrive at a crossroads in the lanes which broadened out into a little square with a coffee shop on each corner.<p>

In front of one stood the big captain with the grizzled beard, which seemed to be a mark of his rank as well as his resplendent uniform. He was clearly high on the food chain of Constantinople.

We crept as close as we could, in order to hear what was being said.

"Are you ready?" He asked his men, and they nodded their assent. "This is an important meeting. Make sure that I am not being followed." _Too little, too late, douchebag!_

They nodded again and split up, disappearing into the Bazaar in different directions. _Really, morons_?

Ezio and I knew they would be looking for us, so we waited a minute or so before following the captain.

Barleti hadn't gone far before he came to another Janissary, a lieutenant, who to the casual eye would have just seemed to be window-shopping in front of an armorer's establishment. But since most traders stayed out of the way of the Janissaries, this didn't really fool us at all.

"What news?" Barleti said as he drew level with the soldier. "Manuel has agreed to meet you, Tarik. He's waiting by the Arsenal Gate."

_Um, who?_ Ezio and I exchanged a look.

Tarik sighed. "An eager old weasel, isn't he? Come!" They set off, out of the Bazaar, and into the city streets.

* * *

><p>It was a long way to the Arsenal, which was situated on the north side of the Golden Horn, farther to the west, but they showed no sign of wanting to take transport yet, and we followed them on foot.<p>

A matter of a couple of miles, and the two men were engrossed in conversation, most of which we managed to catch, and it wasn't hard to blend in with the streets of Constantinople while listening to the two yatter on.

"How did Manuel look? Was he nervous or cagey?" Tarik asked.

"He was his usual self. Impatient and discourteous."

"Hmn. I suppose he has earned that right. Have there been dispatches from the sultan?"

"The last news was a week ago, Bayezid's letter was short and full of sad tidings."

Tarik shook his head. "I could not imagine being at such odds with my own son."

We followed the two chatterboxes to a building close by the Arsenal Gate.

Waiting for them was a large, plump, expensively dressed man in his late fifties, sporting a full grey beard and waxed mustaches. His feathered turban was encrusted with jewels, and there was a jeweled ring on each of his pudgy fingers.

His companion was thinner, almost too thin for an average man, and his clothing suggested that he hailed from Turkmenistan.

We hid discreetly among the heavy branches of a tamarind tree that grew close by, paid close attention as preliminary greetings were exchanged and learned that Thickness was Manuel Palaiologos, a name that didn't ring any bells.

The stick-figure beside him was a bodyguard, going by the name of Shahkulu. Going by the tales that Yusuf told about him, this guy was a rebel against the Ottoman rulers of his country, and that he was spreading his rebellion around the nearby towns and villages.

The trouble was, this guy was not exactly a choir-boy: he had street-cred for being a sadistic bandit as well as a rebellious one. _Not what we Assassins are looking for, that's for sure_!

Once the elaborate niceties had been dealt with, Manuel gestured to Shahkulu, who entered the building behind them, some of guard post. From it, he brought a small but heavy wooden chest, which he placed at Tarik's feet.

The Janissary lieutenant opened it and began counting the gold coins with which it was filled.

"You may verify the amount, Tarik, but the money stays with me until I have seen the cargo for myself and ascertained its quality." Manuel said.

Tarik grunted. "Understood. You are a shrewd man, Manuel."

"Trust without cynicism is hollow," said Manuel unctuously.

The Janissary had been counting fast, closing the chest shortly after receiving it. "The count is good, Tarik. It's all here."

"So, what now?" Manuel asked Tarik.

"You will have access to the Arsenal. When you are satisfied, the cargo will be delivered to a location of your choosing."

"Are your men prepared to travel?"

"Not a problem."

"Very good. I will have a map drawn up for you within a week." Manuel said, and the two parted company.

* * *

><p>We waited until the coast was clear before we climbed down from the tree and made our way with the pedal to the metal to the Assassin's HQ.<p>

It was dusk when we arrived and found Yusuf already there waiting for us. "One of my men claims he saw a shipment of weapons brought in here earlier. So we got curious."

Ezio and I exchanged looks, and I couldn't resist making my feelings known. "It fucking figures! Then again, Templars were never pacifists."

Ezio appeared to have similar thoughts. "I would like to see them for myself."

I snorted. "Fine, let's just walk up to Barleti, and ask for a look-see! I'm sure he would be _real_ welcoming."

Ezio sent me a dark look, and I raised my hands. "Chillax, Bro! I was being sarcastic."

Yusuf gave us a mystified look. "What does 'chillax' mean?"

I was about to answer, when Ezio interrupted. "Don't ask! For Minerva's sake, don't ask!"

Sniggering, I winked at Yusuf before joining Ezio in scanning the outer walls of the Arsenal.

They were more well-guarded than Fort Knox, and that was saying something.

"Short of killing everyone in sight, I'm not sure how we will get inside."

I raised a hand. "We could make a noise, a big one. Do we have any grenades that make a loud noise enough to get those primitive lemmings to roll over and play dead?"

Yusuf shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Master, not big enough to shake them all up."

I nodded, disappointed. "Can't blame a guy for trying. So, we have to think of something more subtle."

A commotion sounded behind us in the square, and our attention was drawn to an altercation that had broken out near the main gate in the Arsenal walls, between a trader and three Janissaries, who were bullying him.

"You have been warned twice: no merchants near the Arsenal walls!" A Janissary sergeant was saying, and turned to his men. "Take this stuff away!"

The stooges started to pick up the trader's crate of fruit, and carry them away.

"Hypocrites!" the man grumbled. "If your men didn't buy my produce, I wouldn't be selling it here in the first place!"

The sergeant ignored him, and the soldiers went on with their work, but the trader hadn't finished. He got in the face of the leader, and let him have it. "You are no worse than the Byzantines, you traitor!"

WHAM!

The trader went down with a bloody nose, and I snorted. The sergeant was a coward, but the trader was right at the wrong time.

"Hold your tongue, parasite!" growled the sergeant.

He turned away to supervise the continuing confiscation of the fruit, while a woman from the crowd rushed up to help the injured trader. Yusuf, Ezio, and I watched as she helped him to his feet.

"Even in times of peace, the poor are always under siege." Yusuf said, and I straightened, an idea coming to me.

"Unless the poor can turn the tables on them."

Ezio nodded, both of us thinking of similar circumstances in Rome.

"Arthur is right. Perhaps if we inspire them to vent their anger, that will help our cause."

Yusuf looked at him. "You mean recruit these people? Incite them to rebel?"

"It need only be a demonstration. But with enough of them on our side..."

We watched as the Janissaries, unimpeded, proceeded to carry off what was left of the man's stock, leaving his stall completely bare. They disappeared through a wicket in the main gate.

"Feigning solidarity to push your own agenda? What gentlemen." Yusuf said with a hint of contempt.

Ezio shrugged. "It's not pretty, we know. But it will work, believe me."

Yusuf shrugged. "Whatever works. And I see no other way of effecting a break-in here."

I nodded. "There's a big enough crowd here, and the trader sure seems to be will-known. Let's go and do some politicking with the people."

* * *

><p>For the next half hour and more, the three of us worked the crowd, hinting and persuading, cajoling and inspiring the ordinary working people around them, whom they found to be very open to the idea of putting an end to their oppression.<p>

Basically, we were the doing what the media corporations like Fox News did that were back home in the States!

All we needed was for someone to get fired up. Once a sufficient number had gathered into a mob, Ezio addressed them.

The fruit trader stood by his side, defiant now. Yusuf and I, standing near the trader, had seen to it that most of the men and women had armed themselves in one way and another. The fruit trader held a huge curved pruning knife.

"Fight with us, brothers," Ezio declaimed. "And avenge this injustice. The Janissaries are above the law! Let's show them we won't stand for their tyranny."

"Yes!" Several voices roared.

"It makes me sick to see the kind of abuse they hand out, doesn't it you?" Ezio continued.

"Yes!"

"Will you fight with us?"

"Yes!"

"Then let's go!"

I rubbed my hands together, grinning at Yusuf, who returned the smile cautiously. "Who needs the Apple of Eden when we got Ezio? It's clobbering time!" (**This phrase is the p****roperty of Phil Brooks, known as CM Punk)**

By then, a detachment of armed Janissaries had come out from the Arsenal Gate, which was firmly closed behind them.

They took up positions in front of it, swords drawn, and faced the mobbed, who seemed_ fucking _pissed!

Undaunted by the soldiers' show of strength, more like incensed by it, the growing crowd surged forward toward the gate.

Whenever a Janissary was rash enough to close with people in the front rank, he was overcome by the sheer weight of numbers and either hurled aside or crushed under advancing feet.

Soon afterward, the crowd was milling about at the gate itself, with the three of us barely enough command to direct our improvised strike force to batter it open.

Hundreds of voices shouted protests, insults, and threats at their oppressors, and I looked at Ezio. "That gate is going down, and soon!"

Yusuf looked at us grimly. "The people are doing you both a favor. Return it and keep them safe from harm."

As Yusuf spoke, two detachments of Janissary reinforcements bore down on the crowd in a pincer movement, having emerged from side gates in the north and south walls.

"This calls for close-quarters fighting." Ezio said to me, preparing his hook blade and hidden-blade.

"I knew there was a reason I woke up this morning!" I said, doing the same with my weapons, throwing myself into the fray with a Rebel Yell, Ezio and Yusuf beside me.

Encouraged by our skills, the men and women on each flank of the crowd turned bravely to face the Janissary counter-attack.

As for the Janissaries, they were taken aback by the strong resistance, and got their collective asses kicked, the gate crumbling soon afterwards.

Cheering, the people managed to hold the Janissaries in check as ferocious fighting broke out in the Arsenal's main quadrangle.

* * *

><p>Through it all, Ezio and I slipped like two ghosts into the inner confines of fortress-like edifice.<p>

"I love the smell of dead Templars in the morning!" I said, in tribute to _Apocalypse Now_, grinning at Ezio, who shook his head.

"Can you not be serious right now, the two of us being behind enemy lines as we are now?"

I smiled. "Aren't you the one who told me that it was better for a warrior to laugh than cry?"

Ezio had to admit that he had done so. "Besides, you wouldn't have me any other way."

Ezio grimaced as we made our way deeper and deeper within the western section of the Arsenal. "That sounded so wrong, _Fratellino_."

I smirked back at him. "You're going to have to hide your homosexual and incestuous fantasies from Sofia. You can't go breaking your heart so soon!"

Playfully punching each other, we made our way along the Arsenal, approaching our objective.

A battle had been fought and won, but I had a feeling that things were about to get even more interesting.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for taking so long, guys! I've actually started to write a novel or two, and writing fan-fiction for you guys, and working a full-time job, so my time is limited. Regardless, I really appreciate your support and taking time to read my fan fics, and I hope not to disappoint! Read and review, y'allz!<strong>


	13. Chapter 13

War Sage: There's better coming!

EzziBA: Aw, thank you so much! I will do just that!

Gorelotte: I'm thrilled that you like it so much, and I hope to update soon!

Tigre Y Lobo: Thank you so much! I live for writing, and I'm glad to know that I'm not bad at it when I get reviews like yours. I'll update ASAP!

Chapter 13

Far from the shattered gate, deep within the western section of the Arsenal, my brother-in-law and I came at last to the place we were looking for. It was quiet there, and whatever guards we encountered we avoided or ganked.

We made our way down a long stone corridor, so narrow that no one could enter the chamber at its end with any hope of surprising those within.

We approached slowly, pussy-footing it to the maximum, until we came to an iron ladder fixed to the wall near the chamber's entrance, which led to a gallery overlooking it. I was sincerely tempted to hum the "Mission Impossible" theme, but we needed more stealth, so I reluctantly refrained from the urge.

We clambered up the ladder, as quietly as possible, and positioned ourselves over the gallery. From our vantage point, we stared grimly at the scene taking place below us.

Manuel and Shahkulu stood in the middle of the chamber, surrounded by a jumble of large crates, some of them open. A small Janissary guard unit stood at attention just inside the door.

If we had tried to enter, we would've been ambushed. We exchanged a look of relief, our instincts and experience saving our bacon once again.

Manuel paused in his examination of the contents of the crates. "Twenty years in this city, living on a cipher. And now, at last, everything is falling into place."

Shahkulu replied, a note of menace in his voice. "When the Palaiologos line is restored, Manuel, do not forget who it was that helped you bring it back."

I smirked. _Employee of the year material right there_!

Manuel looked at him coldly, perhaps thinking along the same wavelength as I was. "Of course not, my friend! I would not dream of betraying a man of your influence. But you must be patient. Nova Roma was not built in a day."

Shahkulu grunted noncommittally, and Manuel turned to the captain of his escort. "I am satisfied. Take me to my ship."

"Follow me. There is a passage to the west gate by which we can avoid the fighting," said the captain.

"I hope and expect you will soon have that under control."

"As we speak, Prince."

"If one single item here is damaged, the money stays with me. Tell Tarik that."

* * *

><p>We watched him leave, and then descended to the chamber and made a quick inspection of them.<p>

I kicked off a lid to an open crate, and whistled when I looked into it. "Well well! Let me guess: Pacifists-R-Us?"

Ezio joined me. "Merda!"

We were both looking into a crate full of rifles, at least a hundred of them.

Our attention was diverted from our inspection by a brazen clang, probably the west gate banging shut after Manuel's departure. Immediately afterward, the sound of boots on stone approaching.

"Aw, shit, it's the cops!" I groaned, realizing that they were returning to reseal the opened crates.

We pressed ourselves against the wall, and waited for the bucket-heads to enter the room, cutting them down as they did so.

Thankfully, they came in one after the other, as we might have had trouble with them in a single mass unit. However, the narrow corridor saved our hides.

"Wow, we owe our lives to architecture! Now I've seen everything." I said, cleaning my sword with a cloth.

"It wouldn't be the first time." Ezio said drily, and I grimaced. _Point taken!_

We passed back the way we had came, and saw that the battle in the quadrangle was over, leaving the aftermath of bodies and wounded behind. A handful of keening women were interspersed among the casualties.

I wondered if the information we had gotten was really worth the price, and looking at Ezio, I could tell that he was wondering the same thing.

"I know what you're thinking, Bro. It's a lot of losses for so little gain."

Ezio smiled bitterly. "You know me so well, after many years of fighting by my side."

I nodded. "Damned straight, I do. Now back to the subject at hand. Manuel is obviously planning some kind of coup, with him packing so much heat, and that crock of shit he spewed about restoring his family to the throne. Tarik seems to be in on the action, but I don't see why he is willing to bite the hand that's feeding him. Surely, he's old and experienced enough to know that, once Manuel's the top dog, Tarik's usefulness will run out, and Shahkulu will pay him a little visit..."

I was cut short by Ezio, who cut me off. "Not now, _Fratellino_. As you said a short time ago, we have very many losses with very little gain."

I couldn't argue with that, thinking of the families of the people who were killed today, and how much they were suffering and would suffer for a long time.

* * *

><p>Shortly afterwards, we returned to Sofia's bookshop, which was still open and the candles burning brightly.<p>

Sofia, seeing us enter, took off her eyeglasses and got up from the worktable in the inner room, where the map we'd discovered was spread out, amid several open books.

"_Salute_!" She greeted up, closing the door behind us and pulling down the blinds. "Time I closed for the night. Two customers all afternoon, I ask you. It's not worth staying open for the evening trade."

Then she saw the look on our faces, and led us to two chairs, fetching us each a glass of wine. We both thanked her, and were really glad that she didn't ask questions about our dour mood.

Instead, she said, "I'm closing in on two more books - one near Tokapi Saray, and the other in the Bayezid District."

I nodded, stepping forward, downing my glass in one go. "I'll try the Bayezid first, since Topaki will be a no-go. The Templars discovered the key they have there."

She nodded. "Ah, _si_. They must have found it by chance or by other means."

I nodded. "They had Niccolo's book, until we liberated it."

She shrugged. "Then we must thank the Mother of God that you two rescued it from them before they could use it further."

She returned to the map, seated herself before it, and resumed writing. Ezio leaned forward and, producing the copy of Empedocles (which I had given to him), placed it on the table by her. The second key was under secure guard at the HQ.

"What do you make of this?" She picked it up carefully, turning it over reverently in her hands.

I could see Ezio studying her hands, which were delicate, her fingers long and slender. Claudia's hands were small but strong, with the calluses of a warrior, her fingers long and nimble. _Damn, I missed my girls!_

Sofia's jaw dropped in wonder. "Oh, Ezio! _E incredibile_!"

Ezio gave me a grateful glance, and I gave him a smug wink. _You're welcome, Bro_!

"Worth something?" Ezio asked her.

"A copy of _On Nature_ in this condition: in its original Coptic binding? It's fantastic!" She opened it carefully. The coded map within no longer glowed as it did when I opened it. In fact, it wasn't there at all.

"Amazing. This must be a third-century transcription of the original," Sofia was saying, with a lot of enthusiasm.

But my eyes were restlessly scanning the room. Something was up, but I didn't know what, until I saw on a boarded-up window. The glass was gone from its panes.

"Sofia, what happened here?" I asked, indicating the damage. Ezio glanced up, his expression going from curious to alarmed in a split second.

Sofia's voice took on a slight irritation that was overridden by her excitement. "Oh, that happens once or twice a year. People try to break in, thinking they will find money." She paused. "I do not keep much here, but this time they succeeded and made off with a portrait of me, as it happens. I shall miss it, and not just for what it is worth. I'm certainly going to find a very safe place for _this_," she added, tapping the Empedocles.

_Hmm, it could be a random burglary. After all, the city was freaking huge, and would house a lot of criminals, but I sensed that there was something more to this._

I knew Ezio couldn't resist being a sucker for damsels in distress, something that he was infamous for, especially not this particular girl, so I knew what was coming next.

I cleared my throat, beating him to it. "You keep working, Sofia. Ezio and I will get that painting back for you."

Ezio sent me an impressed and pleased smile, and nodded his agreement.

"Arthur, the thief could by anywhere by now." Sofia argued, and I winked at her. "If the varmint came here for money, found jack squat, and took the portrait instead, he should still be in this district, trying to get cash for it and get rid of it at the same time."

Ezio spoke up. "It will not take us long to get it back, Sofia."

She looked thoughtful. "There are a couple of streets near here where a number of art dealers do business..."

Ezio and I were already half way to the door.

"Wait!" She called after us. "I have some business in that direction. I'll show you the way."

We waited as she locked the _On Nature_ carefully in an ironclad chest by one wall, then followed her as she left the shop and locked the door firmly behind her.

"This way," she said. "But we part company at the first turning. I'll point you in the right direction from there."

We walked on in silence. A few dozen yards down the street, they came to a crossroads, and she halted. "Down there," she said, pointing.

Then she looked at Ezio. There was something in her eyes that I, and probably Ezio, hoped we weren't imagining.

"If you happen to find it within the next couple of hours, please come and meet me by Valens' Aqueduct," she said, and I could tell the invitation was more for Ezio than for me. "There's a book fair I need to attend, but I'd be so glad to see you there."

Ezio nodded. "I will do my best." She looked at Ezio again, then away, quickly.

Honestly, it was like I wasn't even there, but it didn't bother me, not in the slightest. I hoped that what was between Ezio and Sofia would continue and grow stronger, since Ezio deserved as much.

"I know you will," she said. Thank you, Ezio. And thank you, Arthur." She added quickly, and I gave her a bow. "Anything' to held a friend, Ma'am."

When she was gone, I turned to Ezio, smirking. "Sounded like a date, _Fratello_. Took you long enough."

Ezio shoved me playfully, but I could see his blush. "Laugh it up,_ Fratellino_!"

Chuckling, I followed him into the quarter Sofia had pointed out.

* * *

><p>Said quarter wasn't hard to find - a couple of narrow streets running parallel to one another, the little shops glowing in the lamplight that shone on the treasures they held.<p>

Ezio and I passed slowly from one to another, looking at the people browsing the art more than the art itself, and before too long we saw a shifty-looking guy in gaudy clothes coming out of one of the galleries, engrossed in counting out coins from a leather purse.

Ezio approached him, and I did the same, mixing in with the crowd until I stood behind him without the dumbass any of the wiser.

Said dumbass was immediately on the defense as Ezio stepped in front of him. "What do you want?"

Ezio folded his arms. "Just made a sale, have you?"

The man drew himself up. "If it's any of your business..."

"Portrait of a lady?" The man took a swipe at Ezio, but I clocked him on the back of the head, and sent him sprawling. Coins scattered everywhere on the cobbles.

"Oops! Did I do that? I'm sure sorry!" I asked, my voice dripping with mock sympathy.

"Pick them up and give them to me," said Ezio, pointing to the coins out, speaking to the thief.

"I have done nothing," growled the man, obeying nevertheless. "You can't prove a damn thing."

I snorted. "We don't need to, dick-bag. We'll just keep clobbering you until you start yapping!"

The man cowered. "I found the painting. I mean...someone gave it to me."

Ezio did the punching this time, and I took over the vocal part. "Didn't your Mama teach you not to lie, especially to those who can kill you for doing so?"

"God help me!" The man wailed.

I pretended to yawn, as Ezio punched him again. "He ain't got nothing to do with this. You do the crime, you deal with the consequences!"

The man finished his task and handed the full purse meekly to Ezio, who nodded to me.

I pulled the guy upright, and pinned him against the nearby wall. "Look, you primitive _idjit_, we don't care how you got the painting. Just tell us where it is."

"I sold it to a merchant here, for a lousy two hundred _acke_. How else would I feed myself?"

Ezio gave me another nod, and I eased off.

"Next time, find a nicer way to be a _canaglia_." Ezio advised.

I let the man go, and he scampered away, cursing. We watched him for a moment, then made our way into the gallery.

* * *

><p>After a short moment of browsing, we were able to find it, the owner just hanging it up.<p>

While Ezio stared at the picture, I took care of the owner, who was approaching us.

"How much do you want for it?" I asked, cutting through his sales-pitch, and he hemmed and hawed. "Hard to put a price on the priceless, isn't it?"

At my impatient look, he cut to the chase

"Five hundred?"

I snorted. "You paid two hundred."

The man held up his hands. "_Efendim_! As if I would take an advantage of a man like you! In any case - how did you know?"

I shrugged. "I had a quick but meaningful word with the vendor, less than five minutes ago. And I just watched you hang it, too, so don't try me!"

After a short time, with some more persuading from yours truly, I bought it at two hundred.

"I'll have to wrap it." The man said, and I shrugged. "I hope you don't expect any extra for that."

Grumbling under his breath, the man did so. "A pleasure doing business with you," he said drily.

I gave him a smile equally as dry. "Whatevs! Next time, don't be so hasty to take stolen goods, especially with the victim being my brother's woman. Luckily, my brother and I are the forgiving type, so we will overlook it."

Flabbergasted, the gallery owner bowed us out as fast as politeness permitted. "A pleasure doing business with you, too," Ezio said sarcastically, in parting. With that, we left the quarter.

"Well, that could've gone worse. We didn't have to kill anybody, at least." Ezio nodded, and we pounded our fists together, something I had taught Ezio to do long ago.

_Not a bad day at the office, all things considered!_

* * *

><p><strong>And there you are for another chapter, full of romance, ass kicking, and modern lingo. I hope y'allz enjoy, and don't forget to review after reading. Tootles! <strong>


	14. Chapter 14

War Sage: Thanks very much! There's more where that came from!

Chapter 14

When we arrived, we found her there, waiting for us. Ezio seemed struck by her beauty, seeming to compare her to her painting.

I gave her a bow, and handed her said painting. "Here you are, Ma'am."

She gave me a nod, but her eyes were on Ezio. "It's a good likeness, don't you think?" She asked him, and he shrugged. "I prefer the original."

I rolled my eyes, as she elbowed him playfully. "_Buffone_," she said, as we began walking. "This was a gift from my father when we were in Venice for my twenty-eighth birthday. I had to sit for Meister Albrecht Durer for a full week. Can you imagine? Me sitting still for seven days? Doing nothing!"

I sniggered. "Perish the thought...ow!" I finished, Ezio's boot meeting my shin.

"_Una tortura_!" She exclaimed, smacking me playfully upside the head as she spoke. _What was this: pick on Arthur Day?_

Ezio, despite himself, was suppressing chuckles as well, as she and Ezio sat themselves on a bench.

My laughter faded as she passed a slip of paper to me, our expressions becoming serious. "One good turn..." she said. "I've found you another book location. And it's not far from here, actually."

I nodded, slightly relieved to have an excuse to get the hell out of dodge. _The air was becoming a little too sweet for me_!

I took the time to read over the information again. The woman was something special, a genius, perhaps. I bowed to them both. "Madam, Brother, I will be back soon."

I was about to skip town, but paused as she turned to Ezio. "Ezio, what is this all about? You both are not scholars, that much is clear." She eyed our swords. "No offense, of course! Do you work for the Church?"

I snorted, as Ezio chuckled nervously. "Not the Church, no. But we are teachers, of a kind."

I grimaced at the white lie, as Sofia raised her eyebrows. "What then?"

Ezio sighed. "I will explain one day, Sofia. When I can."

She nodded, then looked at me. "We still need to talk about what you said about the New World, Arthur."

I bowed to her again. "Another time, then."

Sofia looked disappointed, but before I could say anything more, Ezio dismissed me with a curt nod, and I followed his unspoken order.

* * *

><p>The decoded cipher led me to an ancient edifice barely three blocks distant, in the center of the Bayezid District.<p>

It seemed once to have been a warehouse, currently unused, but unlocked. Cautiously, keeping an eye out for the Feds, I entered, following the instructions on the paper in my hand.

I climbed a staircase to the first floor and went down a corridor, at the end of which he found a small room, an office, covered in dust; but its shelves were still full of ledgers, and on the desk lay a pen set and a paper knife.

'_Fascinating_,' I thought sarcastically.

I examined the room carefully, but its walls seemed to hold no clue at all about what I was looking for, until at last my keen eyes noticed a discrepancy in the tile work that surrounded the fireplace.

I explored this with my fingers, finding that one tile moved under my touch._ Bingo_!

Using the paper knife from the desk, I dislodged it, listening all the time for the sound of any movement from below.

The tile came away after only a moment's work, revealing behind it a wooden panel, which I removed, seeing in the faint light behind it a book, which I withdrew carefully.

A small, very old, book. _Well, that was dramatic_!

I peered at the title on its spine: the version of Aesop's Fables put into verse by Socrates while he was under sentence of death. I blew the dust from it and expectantly opened it to a blank page at the front.

There, a map of Constantinople revealed itself. _So far so good_.

I concentrated, and as the page glowed with an unearthly light, I could see that the Galata Tower was pinpointed on it.

Stowing the book carefully in my belt wallet, I left the building and made my way north through the city, taking the ferry across the Golden Horn to a quay near the foot of the tower.

I had to use all of my blending-in skills to get past the Feds but, once inside, was guided by the glow-in-the-dark (as well as in the light) book, which took me up to a winding stone staircase to a landing between floors.

It appeared to contain nothing beyond its bare stone walls, but the book indicated that I was in the right place.

It wasn't all that different from using a GPS (Global Positioning Satellite), which I did miss from time to time, but I digress.

I searched the walls with my hands, feeling for any giveaway that might indicate a hidden aperture. At last I found a gap between the stonework that was not filled with mortar, and followed it with my fingers, disclosing a very narrow concealed doorway.

This lead me to push gently against the surrounding stones until I found one about three feet from the floor that gave slightly, allowing the door to swing back, revealing, within the depth of the tower's wall, a small room, scarcely big enough to enter. _And Bingo was his name-o!_

Inside, on a narrow column, rested another circular stone key, my third. I squeezed into the space to retrieve it, and as I did so, it began to glow, its light increasing fast, as the room in turn seemed to grow in volume, and I felt myself transported into the past..._again_.

* * *

><p>As the light reduced to a normal brightness of sunshine, I saw that I was back in Masyaf. But time had moved on, perhaps several years. As always, it felt like a dream, but I knew it was a memory as well.<p>

Disembodied, at one with the scene that presented itself to me, I watched the same man in white, although he was decades older now, and he didn't look happy.

Altair, now in his sixties, but still a lean and fit man, sat on a stone bench outside a dwelling in the village of Masyaf, thinking. He was no stranger to adversity, and disaster seemed, once again, poised to strike. _How much longer, though, could he keep the Apple_?

His ponderings were interrupted, and the interruption was not unwelcome, by the appearance of his wife, Maria Thorpe, the Englishwoman who had once been his enemy. Time and chance had changed all that.

By then, after a long exile, they had returned to Masyaf.

And they faced Fate together. I noted that Claudia and I often did the same.

She joined him on the bench, sensing his lowered spirits. He told her his news. "The Templars have retaken their Archive on Cyprus. Abbas Sofian sent no reinforcements to aid the defenders. It was a massacre."

Maria's lips parted in an expression of surprise and dismay. "How could God have permitted this?"

"Maria, listen to me. When we left Masyaf ten long years ago, our Order was strong. But since then, all our progress, all that we built, has been undone, dismantled."

Her face was a mask of quiet fury. "Abbas must answer for this."

"Answer to whom? The Assassins obey only his command now." Altair replied, angrily.

She placed a hand on his arm. "Resist your desire for revenge, Altair. If you speak the truth, they will see the error of their ways."

"Abbas executed our youngest son, Maria! He deserves to _die_!"

"Yes, but if you cannot win back the Brotherhood by honorable means, its foundation will crumble."

Altair didn't replay for a moment but sat silently, brooding, the subject of some deep inner struggle. _You know you should have killed that son of a bitch years ago**!**_

After a moment, he looked up, and his face cleared. "You are right, Maria," he said, calmly. "Thirty years ago, I let passion overtake my reason. I was headstrong and ambitious, and I caused a rift within the Brotherhood that has never fully healed." He rose, and Maria rose with him.

Slowly, immersed in conversation, they walked through the dusty village.

"Speak reasonably, Altair, and reasonable men will listen," she said.

"Some will, perhaps. But not Abbas." Altair shook his head. "I should have expelled him thirty years ago when he tried to steal the Apple."

"But my dear, you earned the respect of the other Assassins because you were merciful and let him stay."

He smiled at her slyly. "How do you know all this? You weren't even there."

She returned his smile. "I married a master storyteller."

As they walked, they came into view of the massive hulk of the castle. But there was an air of neglect hanging over it.

"Look at this place," growled Altair. "Masyaf is a shadow of its former self."

"We have been away a long time," Maria reminded him gently.

"But not in hiding," he corrected. "The threat from the Mongols - the Storm from the East, the hordes led by Genghis Kahn - demanded our attention, and we rode to meet it. What man here can say the same?"

They walked on. A little later, Maria broke their silence by saying, "Where is our eldest son? Does Darim know that his brother is dead?"

"I sent Darim a message four days ago. With luck, it will have reached him by now."

"Then we may see him soon."

"If God wills it." Altair answered, then paused. "You know, when I think of Abbas, I almost pity him. He wears his great grudge against us like a cloak."

"His wound is deep, my darling. Perhaps...perhaps it will help him to hear the truth." _Kinda doubt it, Ma'am._

Altair shook his head. "It will not matter, not with him. A wounded heart sees all wisdom as the point of a knife." _If you had killed the son of a bitch like I suggested, you wouldn't have this problem!_

As the two companions walked through the village, none of the civilians met their eyes. They were too scared to.

"As I walk through this village, I sense great fear, not love." _Duh, you think?_

Maria nodded. "Abbas has taken this place, and robbed it of all joy."

Altair stopped in his tracks and looked gravely at his wife. "We may be walking to our doom, Maria."

She took his hand. "We may. But we walk together." _Wait, say what? Are you out of your damned minds? Keep Maria out of this, you stupid egg-head_!

* * *

><p>Maria and Altair had reached the confines of the castle and began encountering Assassins, none of said encounters being friendly ones.<p>

One approached them and made to pass by without acknowledgment, but Altair stopped him. "Brother, speak with us for a moment."

Unwillingly, the Assassin turned. "For what reason should I speak to you? So that you can twist my mind into knots with that devilish artifact of yours?"

And he hurried away, refusing to talk any further. _That disrespectful little shit!_

Another Assassin wasn't much better, who was very rude, calling Altair a cipher, suggesting that he would get more out of talking to the wind than to Altair. _Kids these days!_

The couple made their way unchallenged to the castle gardens. Once there, they were surrounded by unfriendly-looking Assassins.

Then, on a rampart above them, Abbas appeared. "Let them speak," he ordered in an imperious voice.

To Altair and Maria, he said: "Why have you come here? Why have you returned, unwelcome as you are, to this place? To defile it further?"

"We seek the truth about our son's death. Why was Sef killed?" Altair asked calmly.

"Is it the truth you want or an excuse for revenge?" "

If the truth gives us an excuse, we will act on it," Maria threw back at him.

This gave Abbas pause, but after a moment's reflection, he asked for the Apple in exchange for information about the kid's death.

Altair nodded, and turned himself to address the assembled Brotherhood. "Ah, the truth is out already! Abbas wants the Apple for himself, not to open your minds - but to control them!"

Abbas didn't care for that. "You have held that artifact for thirty years, Altair, reveling in its power and hoarding its secrets. It has corrupted you!"

Altair looked around at his Brothers, and nodded. "Very well, Abbas. Take it."

Maria was taken aback, but I had a feeling that Altair had something up his sleeve.

At Abbas' command, one of his butt buddies came in to take it. When he was level with Altair, he whispered, "It was I who executed your son Sef. Just before I killed him, I told him that it was you yourself who ordered his death. He died believing that you had betrayed him." _You just signed your own death warrant, motherfucker!_

Altair turned to the man, and the Apple exploded into light. Screaming, the bodyguard fell, grabbing at his own head.

"Altair!" cried Maria, but he ignored her.

His eyes were black with fury as, driven by an unseen force, the bodyguard pulled a knife from his belt, and put it to his own neck.

Maria seized her husband's arm, shaking him. "Altair, no!" An instant later, he calmed himself, seeming to break out of a trance.

But the bodyguard also seemed to pull out of his trance, and stabbed Maria in the back with his knife in anger. Maria stood, a faint cry forming on her lips.

The entire company of Assassins stood still as stone, Abbas also stood still, his mouth opened in shock.

Altair killed the bodyguard, and caught his wife as she began to collapse, and lowered her gently to the earth. He put his face close to hers, straining to hear her. "Altair, my love, my strength."

"Maria..." His voice was no more than an anguished whisper.

"He is possessed! Kill him!" _Okay, I was really getting sick of this punk-ass Abbas! I'd kick him in the nuts if I could!_

Altair booked it out of there, as King Douchebag screeched for the Apple.

* * *

><p>On his way out of the castle, in a wooded area between the castle and the village, he ran straight into a man that looked like his spitting younger image.<p>

"Father!" exclaimed Altair Junior. "I came as soon as I'd read your message. What has happened? Am I too late?"

From the castile behind him, horns were crying out the alarm. _Shake a leg, Towel-heads_!

"Darim, my son! Turn back!"

Darim looked past his father, over his shoulder. There, on the ridges beyond the wood where the Senior and Junior were, he could see bands of Assassins assembling, getting ready to hunt my Brother's ancestors. "Have they all gone mad?"

"Darim, I still have the Apple. We have to go. Abbas must not get his hands on it."

Darim unslung his pack and drew a scabbard of throwing knives from it before placing it on the ground. "There are more knives in there, take them if you need them."

The Assassins loyal to Abbas had seen them by then, and were heading toward them while others fanned out to outflank them.

"They are trying to ambush us," said Altair grimly. "Keep a stock of knives with you. We must be prepared."

They made their way through the wood, taking cover periodically to avoid the Goon Squad.

"Stay close! We go together." Darim said.

"We'll try to work our way around. There are horses in the village. Once we've got mounts, we'll try to make for the coast."

Darim nodded. "Where is Mother?"

Altair shook his head, sadly. "She is gone, Darim. I am sorry."

Darim took a breath. "What? How?"

"Later, time for talk later, Now we have to get clear. We have to fight."

Darim shook his head. "But they are our Brothers, our fellow Assassins. Surely we can talk - persuade them."

"Forget reason, Darim. They have been poisoned by lies."

There was a short silence between them, then Darim spoke again, "Was it Abbas who killed my brother?"

"He killed your brother, our great comrade Malik Al-Saif, and countless others," replied Altair.

Darim bowed his head. "He is a madman, without remorse, without conscience."

"A madman with an army," Altair added.

"He will die. One day, he will pay." Darim said, coldly.

* * *

><p>They reached the outskirts of the village and were lucky to make their way to the stables unmolested, for the village itself was teeming with Assassins.<p>

Hastily, they saddled up and mounted.

As they rode away, they could hear Abbas's voice hollering: "I will have the Apple, Altair! And I will have your HEAD, for all the dishonor you have brought upon my family! You cannot run forever! Not from us, and not from your lies!" His voice faded into the distance as they galloped away.

_This guy had issues! Where's a damned shrink when you need one?_

Five miles down the road, they reined in , not being pursued. Darim, riding behind him, noticed that his father was slumped in the saddle, exhausted and anguished. "Maria, my love..." Altair murmured.

"Come, Father. We must ride on."

Nodding, Altair joined his son in galloping into the forbidding landscape.

* * *

><p>Shortly afterward, I knelt on the stone floor of the chamber, tears rolling down my cheeks.<p>

I could not, and would not, imagine Altair's pain.

I could never live with myself if something happened to Claudia or Maria, and I promised to keep them closer to me from now on.

* * *

><p><strong>And that's all for now. I really hated writing this one, due to writing about Maria's death, which horrified me while I was playing <strong>_**Revelations. **_**However, I hope y'allz enjoyed Arthur's commentary during the Key's memory. I'll update ASAP, but until them, read and review, _sil vous plais!_**


	15. Chapter 15

**War Sage: Thanks again!**

Chapter 15

Ezio entered the Assassin Headquarters, having recieved a summons from Yusuf. The man in question was waiting for him. "Forgive me for calling you here, Mentor, but we have a...problem on our hands. I hope I did not disturb you from your work."

Ezio shrugged, having only just come from a nearby bank to retrieve some money. "Not at all. What can I do to help?"

Yusuf sighed. "Arthur returned earlier today, and hasn't emerged from his room since then. He wasn't drunk or injured, but seemed deeply troubled by something. I tried to ascertain his well-being by entering the room, but he wouldn't let me enter. He asked for you specifically, though."

Ezio frowned, but then realized this episode might have to do with the Keys to Altair's Library. The memories hidden within the keys had produced some thoughtful meditations from his brother-in-law, but not to this extent.

"I am sure he is fine, but I will check with him nonetheless." He did just that, knocking on Arthur's door only minutes later.

Not waiting for an answer, he entered the room. It was sparse and meticulously tidy, with a small bed, a pouf, and a desk. The desk held the Keys that Arthur had found were sitting in plain view, as was Arthur, who sat in the middle of the room, cross-legged.

"I take it that you have the latest Key?" His brother-in-law turned to face him, and his eyes were red and puffy. He had been crying.

_Arthur Auditore had never cried in front of his brother, not since the birth of Maria._

"You've got that right." In the next few minutes, Arthur entailed what he had seen in the Key's memory.

After he was done, Ezio began to understand. "You are worried for Claudia and Maria."

I nodded. "A wake-up call if I ever saw one. I know Claudia is not stupid enough to get herself into that kind of trouble, but there's always this uncertainty. Speaking of uncertainty, it's been at least fifteen years that you and I met, and I'm no closer to finding out why I was sent back to this time. I sure as hell don't regret anything that happened since I left West Virginia, but I'm no closer to answering the question."

Ezio grunted as he sat next to Arthur. "After what you had seen in the Key's memory, I cannot say that I blame you for being concerned. However," he continued, laying a hand on my shoulder, "You will certainly never get the chance of making the same mistakes that Altair made, and you are right that Claudia is far from helpless. I merely suggest that you worry about the present, as we have so much to do in this place. As you have said before: let's cross that bridge when we come to it. That goes for the other, perhaps bigger question as well."

Arthur nodded, and the two brothers hugged. _We Auditores stuck together._

A few hours later, Arthur was back in control, and their quest continued.

* * *

><p>As Ezio delivered <em>Fables<em> to Sofia, I went to make a report to the royal Wonder Boy.

I made my way to a fashionable park near the Bayezid Mosque, per Ezio's instructions.

It was there that I met Suleiman (Wonder Boy) and his uncle Ahmet seated in the shade of an oriental plane, the sunshine intensifying the bright green of the broad leaves. A Janissary guard detail stood around them at a discreet distance while they played chess.

I wanted to speak to the prince alone, but I had time to kill, so I decided to watch them without being watched myself.

The two seemed evenly matched, until the Whiz Kid made a move that made Ahmet protest. "That is not a legal move."

"It is a European variation - _arrocco_."

"It's interesting, but not exactly fair when you play by different rules from your opponent."

Suleiman snorted. "You may think differently when you are Sultan. Should I take the move back?" He continued, picking up his king.

In response, Ahmet rose to his feet. "Suleiman, I know it has been hard on you, watching your father and me quarrel over Bayezid's throne."

The young man shrugged. "Grandfather has chosen you, and his word is law - _kanun_. What is there to argue about?"

Ahmet looked at his nephew in grudging admiration. "Your father and I were close once, but his cruelty and ambition have-"

Suleiman cut in angrily. "I have heard the rumors, Uncle!"

Embarrassed, Ahmet looked out across the park for a moment before returning his gaze to the chessboard. "Well," he said, "I have a meeting with the council of viziers shortly. Shall we continue another time?"

"Whenever you wish."

With that, Ahmet departed after exchanging a bow to his nephew.

Suleiman then sat back down, contemplating his next move. This seemed like a good time to cut in, so I moved forward.

Seeing me approach, he gestured to the guards to not impede my movements._ That was probably a good thing for all concerned. Although I would not have minded wiping the park with them, I would have hated to get blood all over Wonder Boy._

"Arthur," he said in greeting.

I nodded in return, and decided not be beat around the bush. "Tarik has been selling firearms to a local boss - Manuel Palaiologos."

Suleiman's face darkened, and he clenched his fist. "Palaiologos. That is a sad sound to my ears."

I shrugged, unable to resist a dry comment. "We could call him something else if you want."

Ignoring my attempt at comic relief, the young man rose from his chair. "The last Byzantine emperor was Constantine Palaiologos. If this heir of his is arming a militia of some kind, there will be conflict, and it will escalate. All this at a time when my father and grandfather are at odds with one another." He trailed off, thinking hard.

I didn't envy the kid, as his decision could cost quite a number of lives.

I spoke up after a few seconds. "Tarik knows where the boomsticks are headed. If I can find him, I can follow the weapons straight to the Byzantines."

Suleiman considered me. "Tarik will be with his Janissaries, at their barracks. So, if you want to get to get close, you will have to 'become' a Janissary yourself."

I smiled. "My pleasure. I love getting in their overly-inflated noggins, and a nice costume will do just the trick!"

"_Guzel_ (Excellent." He said, then thought some more. I could tell that whatever decision he would make pained him, but he seemed intent on making said decision.

"Get the information you need - then kill him."

I raised an eyebrow. _This took balls, and a touch of steel that I hadn't seen yet from the kid._ "I could have sworn that Ezio told me that Tarik and your father are good friends. Are you sure about this?"

The young man swallowed hard, then looked defiant. "This is true, but such naked treason against my grandfather deserves death."

I shrugged. _No skin off my nose, kid_. "Well, all right then."

I took my leave, having nothing else to discuss.

When I looked back on the way out, he was studying the chessboard again.

* * *

><p>With a little help from Yusuf's Assassins, I was able to isolate and corner an unsuspecting off-duty Janissary in the Bazaar and relieve him of his uniform.<p>

If it makes my reader feel any better, I didn't _gank_ him and I did apologize to him...after I had planted my boot in the guy's face.

_What can I say, I was in a good mood today!_

I did have to shave my beard because the guy whose ass I handed to him was clean-shaven, and I had to dye my hair black as well.

This job wasn't without it's sacrifices, but being a bad-ass Assassin wasn't all fun and games, so I took one for the team. Besides, Claudia was always saying that I needed a shave.

After this was all done, I made my way to the barracks, and was amused and a little disconcerted at the response I got from the local population. Whether it was man or woman, Ottomans or Byzantines, said response was varied. Some were apparently admiring and ingratiating, some were submissive, and some were downright pissed.

It seemed that the Janissaries were tolerated at best and loathed at worst. There was no hint of genuine affection or regard. But from I could gather, the most disdain was leveled toward the Janissaries belonging to Tarik's barracks.

_Note to self: everybody hates Tarik's lemmings, and such things should be duly exploited!_ But I digress.

I was relieved that my uniform allowed complete access to the barracks, no questions asked, the more so when my poor victim was discovered. To my surprise, he had died from his injuries.

_Ooops!_

As I drew close to the destination, I passed a square where a Seljuk herald was announcing the man's death to a crowd of interested onlookers.

"Dark tidings, citizens of _Kostantiniyye_," the herald was proclaiming. "A servant of our sultan has fallen at the hands of a criminal and been stripped of his garments. Be on the lookout for any suspicious activity."

_Well, I didn't try to kill the son of bitch! Sure, I might have opened a Grade-A ass whupping on the guy, but I didn't mean to turn him into road kill!_

I crossed the square as discreetly as possible, as Bill O'Reilly continued. "Woe betide the murderer who took the life of the beloved Janissary. This enemy of civilization must be found and brought to justice. If you see something, say something!"

I smirked slightly. _Come get some, Sheeple! Killing a herald had never been so tempting, and I had a growing headache from listening to the guy, the same headache I had when watching the corporate mass media at home._

"Citizens, beware! A killer stalks our streets, a man without conscience, targeting the servants of our sultan. The Janissaries have dedicated their lives to the protection of the empire. Return the favor they have done us and find this killer before he strikes again!"

_Yeah, maybe it was time I get gone, before the you-know-what hit the fan!_

* * *

><p>The postern gate of the Janissary Garrison stood open, though flanked by a double guard. But they came to attention as I arrived, and I realized that I had the luck of whupping an officer of some kind, judging to the reactions from the two guards.<p>

As I made my way through the camp, I caught the conversations of the soldiers, most having to do with my accidental killing of their fellow soldier, and of the unpleasant penalties they would bestow on my when I was caught. _Okay, awkward!_

I moved around the barracks, keeping my head down and eavesdropping on various conversations.

"Selim understands our plight. The Byzantines, the Mamluks, the Safavid - only he has the courage to face the threats those peoples represent for us," said one soldier.

"You speak the truth. Selim is a warrior. Like Osman and Mehmed before him," another replied.

"So why has our sultan chosen a pussycat over a lion?"

"Prince Ahmet shares the sultan's calm temperament, that's why. They are too much alike, I fear."

A third soldier joined the conversation. "Sultan Bayezid is a good man, and a kind ruler...But he has lost the fire that made him great."

"I disagree," said a fourth. "He is still a fighter. Look at the army he has raised against Selim."

"That's just further evidence of his decline! To take up arms against his own son? It's shameful."

"Do not bend the truth to match the contours of your own passion, _efendim_," the fourth man rebuked him. "It was Selim that attacked first."

From the consequential arguments between the couple of soldiers, I gathered that several soldiers supported the current ruler, while some supported Ahmet, and some supported Ezio's friend Suleiman.

It also came to my attention that Ahmet was sticking around because he was awaiting the death of the sultan.

_Note to self: Ambition abounds, especially among royal families. This particular family may have its issues, but they were nothing compared to the Borgias._

I continued walking after making a few mental notes, and came upon several ornate tents were pitched within the broad compound, protected by the high walls that surrounded it.

This had to be the place, since it was to the center of the camp. Sure enough, I heard Tarik conferring with what looked like an adjutant.

"Tarik _Bey_," said the courier. "A letter for you."

Tarik took the letter without comment, broke the seal, and read it. He was laughing in a satisfied manner even before he finished reading it.

"Perfect," he said, folding the paper and putting it in his tunic. "The rifles have arrived in Cappadocia, at the garrison of Manuel Palaiologo's army."

"And our men, are they with him?" Asked the adjutant.

"_Evet._ They will contact us when the Byzantines break camp. Then we will meet them when they reach Bursa."

The adjutant smiled. "Then everything into place, _efendim_."

"Yes, Chagatai," Tarik replied. "For now."

He waved the aide away and started to walk away, among the tents.

Keeping a safe distance, I followed him, but I could not remain completely unnoticed, having to use what little Turkish I knew to get me out of some tight messes, but I was stopped enough times by suspicious to lose my trail of Tarik.

Anyway, I had enough reason to assume Tarik's guilt, and give what information I had learned to Ezio. _To hell with this pussyfooting! Besides, I wasn't above creating a little havoc when it was needed._

With that decision made, I tripped one of the soldiers with my hookblade, and got the hell out of dodge as fast as I could go, but I wasn't done with Tarik.

Call it stubbornness, but Tarik needed taken care of.

So I doubled back, using full advantage of the amount of people of similar uniform and confusion that I had wrought to resume my hunt for Tarik.

I had enough information of his guilt: I had the info of the weapons going to Manuel, and of Tarik's meeting with the same man.

And so now I would do things the Assassin Way.

_It was time to take out the garbage._

* * *

><p>I located him in one of the officer's map rooms, in a quiet room of the barracks.<p>

Once I made sure I wasn't being pursued, I closed and locked the door behind me. "Tarik Barleti, I live an unpleasant lifestyle, but it helps pay the bills. If you could make this easier if you-"

Before I could finish advising Tarik to make my job easier, the same man flung himself at me, sword out.

Any other man would have been taken by surprise, but I was Arthur _fucking_ Auditore! I neatly stepped aside to my left as Tarik thrust with his sword, then unleashed my left-hand hiddenblade and plunged it into his lower back, making sure to rip through the kidney.

Tarik crashed forward onto a map table, scattering the charts that covered it and drenching those that remained with blood.

"Thus die all traitors." I growled.

But Tarik looked resigned, almost amused. "Ah, what bitter irony! Is this the result of Suleiman's investigation?"

I shrugged, suddenly not so confident. "I don't know how you do things around here, but working with people trying to incite a revolution against your own bosses is generally frowned upon. So you'll forgive me for taking things into my own hands."

Tarik smiled regretfully. "I blame myself, not for treason, but for hubris."

He looked up at me, and my heart sank. "I was preparing an ambush. Preparing to strike at the Byzantine Templars at the precise moment they felt safest."

_Uh oh!_

"Where's your proof?" Painfully, he gave me a map from his belt with his left hand, while his right clutched his fatal wound.

"Here, take it."

I did so.

"This will lead you to the Byzantines in Cappadocia," Tarik continued. "Destroy them if you can."

I nodded, wanting to scream in horror. "I'm sorry."

Tarik shrugged, struggling to speak, knowing his next words would be his last. "There is no blame. Protect my homeland. _Allah ashkina!_ In God's name, redeem the honor we have lost in this fight."

I nodded, and held him as he let out his last breath.

"Rest in peace. When we next meet, perhaps we shall be friends." I said, a lump in my throat.

The shouts outside made me look up. The walls of the barracks were close-by, and I needed to book it. I got rid of the armor, and stripped down to my grey tunic and hose.

With the help of my hookblade, I knew I could climb the wall. _It was time to go_.

* * *

><p>Back at the Assassin HQ, I stood across from Ezio, who sat in a high-backed chair. I had just delivered the bad news to him.<p>

"This is not your fault, _Fratellino_." Ezio said.

I kicked a stool, my temper flaring. "I killed an innocent man, ruined a sting operation, and now it's all _fucked_ up because I didn't ask enough questions!" I finished, kicking the stool again.

Ezio stood, and grasped my shoulder. "Look at me. Look at me!"

I did so, biting back another tirade. "_Si_, you have made a mistake, but do you know what I say? I would have done the exact same thing in your place, without question."

I looked away, and he sighed. "When I found out that you had married Claudia, do you remember what I told you?"

I nodded. "You asked me to do my best in everything that I did, especially where she was concerned."

He nodded. "And you have always done so, without fail. Everybody makes mistakes, but you have always done whatever I asked of you. And you will not stop now, _si_?"

I nodded, feeling slightly better. "Never, _Fratello_."

Ezio nodded, and clapped me on the shoulder. "I'll help you deliver the news to Suleiman, and then we will go to Cappadocia, and take care of this mess. We will do this together, as always."

I nodded again, cracking a smile. "Damn right, we will!"

* * *

><p><strong>Arthur is a fantastic Assassin, but even he is flawed. This chapter shows that one always needs a family or a good friend to rely upon. We can't go at life on our own, and we need someone to be there for us if things get hairy. <strong>

**In the next chapter, Ezio and Arthur continue their journey. Ezio falls for Sofia, while Arthur hunts for the next Key. Until then, enjoy and review, my duckies!**


	16. Chapter 16

War Sage: Thanks once again!

Chapter 17

Ezio and I met with Suleiman soon after, and he seemed surprised to see us so agitated.

I forestalled the question. "Tarik was no traitor, Boss. He was also tracking the Byzantines."

"What?" Suleiman was distressed at the news. "Did you-"

I nodded. "Yeah, that was my bad. Apologies."

Suleiman sat down heavily, looking a little green around the gills, so to speak. "No, forgive me. I should not have been so quick to judge."

Ezio spoke up, as an awkward silence ensued. "Prince, Tarik was loyal to your Grandfather to the end; and through his efforts, we have the means to save your city."

I briefly explained what I had found out, told him what I had learned through listening to the Janissaries, and showed him the map Tarik had given to me.

"Ah, Tarik," whispered Suleiman. "He should not have been so secretive. What a terrible way to do a good thing."

Ezio nodded, looking impatient. "The weapons have been taken to Cappadocia. We must act immediately. Can you get us there?"

Suleiman snapped out of his reverie. "What-? Get you there? Yes, of course. I will arrange a ship to take you to Mersin - you can travel inland from there."

They were interrupted by the arrival of Prince Ahmet.

Fortunately, he called out to Suleiman in an impatient voice before he arrived, giving Ezio and me enough time to find less conspicuous areas of the room. Ahmet entered the room, and wasted no time in coming to the point.

"Suleiman, I have been set up and made to look like a traitor! Do you remember Tarik, the Janissary?"

"The man you quarreled with?"

Ahmet looked seriously pissed off. "He has been murdered. It is no secret that he and I were at odds. Now the Janissaries will be quick to accuse me of the crime."

"This is terrible news, Uncle."

"It is indeed. When word of this reaches my father, he will banish me from the city!"

Suleiman couldn't suppress a nervous glance at us over his uncle's shoulder, and Ahmet whirled to face us, his manner consequently becoming more reserved.

"Ah, forgive me, nephew. I was not aware that we had guests."

Suleiman hesitated before introducing us. "Uncle, this is Marcello and Cedric, my European advisors in Kefe." He said, pointing at Ezio, then at me.

"_Buona sera_." Ezio said, he and I bowing low.

Ahmet made an impatient gesture. "Marcello and Cedric, my nephew and I have a private matter to discuss," he said, sternly.

"Yeah, we kinda noticed. It sounds like y'all need some good old-fashioned family therapy. Good for the soul, that stuff is!" I said, unable to resist my usual smart-ass comment.

"Of course. Please excuse us." Ezio said, after treading on my toes. _Ow, that fragging hurt!_

We bowed again, even lower, and backed our way to the door, looking to the Wonder Boy for help, who gladly obliged.

"You know your orders. As I've said to the both of you, a ship will for you when you are ready to leave."

We said our good-byes, and got out of there. I could hear Suleiman consoling/cautioning his dear old uncle from throwing a hissy..._on second thought, it was too late for that!_

"Only you, Arthur, would talk like that when we are in such accommodating circumstances. Sometimes, it is a wonder you have survived this long!" Ezio said, as we scooted back to the Assassin HQ.

"I've got the gift of gab. Besides, I can back it up with kick-assery, so I'm basically too hot to handle!"

Ezio snorted. "Or too insane!"

I shrugged. "At least it pays the bills, and that's a fact!"

Shaking his head, Ezio continued. "Your antics aside, things seem to be coming to a head, and we need some time to think this out, and gather our thoughts."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, let's go see your beau, and ease your precious mind."

* * *

><p>About an hour later, Ezio and I were in Sofia's store, my brother-in-law deeply engrossed in Dante's Inferno, which Sofia had suggested to him a few days earlier. I had already read the thing myself, and it wasn't such a bad read, but Ezio reading those kinds of books...any books, was almost surreal.<p>

Ezio had always been up and about, not content to sit his butt down, and read a good, wholesome book. However, something told me that him reading books only happened because of a certain someone, and it sure as hell wasn't me!

I turned to the person in question, who had roped me in to helping her with her map by comparing it with her reference books. I didn't know why, exactly, since she was didn't seem to have any difficulty with it-

"Arthur, I was wondering if we could have that talk I've been meaning to have with you, about the New World."

_Huh...well, crap!_

Ezio, who had been reading the Inferno, looked up.

I sent him a raised eyebrow, and he gave me a quick nod.

"This may completely crazy, even unbelievable, but if you want to know the truth about me, here it is." And I told her everything, leaving nothing out.

After I was done, there was a long, almost painful silence. Her face was blank, eyes calm, clearly thinking very hard and very fast. "We'll that would explain your accent, and your eccentricities. Although I've heard of mad men spinning tails, yours is far too descriptive and lucid to be insanity or a complete lie."

I frowned. "So you do believe me?"

She suddenly snatched a journal from her piles of random books, as well as a writing utensil, and looked at me expectantly. "I hope you have a good memory of your past life, _Messere,_ because I cannot pass up the opportunity of a lifetime in writing about it!"

_Oh, well. At least she's not going to burn me at the stake!_

* * *

><p>After what must have been a couple of hours, she raised a hand to stop me. "<em>Molto bene, Messere<em>. We will continue later."

She turned to Ezio, who had just finished the Inferno. "Enjoying the peom?"

He gave her a smile, and rose, placing the book on the table next to him. "Who were those men he condemned to hell?"

"Political opponents, men who wronged him. Dante Alighieri's pen cuts deep, no?"

I chuckled. "A subtle revenge, but also effective. I'd have loved to see their faces when they read this!"

"Si," Ezio replied, thoughtfully. "A subtle way, indeed."

Ezio didn't seem to want to wake up from "_la-la land_," but the urgency of our journey was too obvious for either of us to ignore.

However, we could not do anything without say-so from Suleiman.

After a short pause, she spoke to Ezio again. "Ezio," she began, hesitantly. "I plan to make a trip to Adrianopolis in a few weeks, to visit a new printing press there."

I noticed the shy tone of her voice, and Ezio turned to her.

I retreated silently into a corner of the shop, sensing the sudden romantic turn of the conversation, making sure that I could watch without interrupting the going's-on.

"That should be fun." Ezio said, pretending to sound nonchalant.

"It is a five or six day ride from here, and I will need an escort..."

"_Prego_? Pardon?"

She was instantly embarrassed. "I'm sorry. You are a busy man."

Now Ezio looked embarrassed. "Sofia, I would love to accompany you, but my time is running short."

"That is true for all of us." She confirmed, and I interrupted. "Why don't you go on a trip with her, Bro? Claudia and I can handle things while you are gone."

Ezio looked tempted, and Sofia cleared her throat after a moment of silence. "Well, I could try to finish this last cipher now, but I need to run an errand before sundown. Can you wait a day?"

Ezio nodded. "What do you need?"

She looked away, and back again. "It's silly, but...a bouquet of fresh flowers. White tulips, specifically."

He got up, and so did I. "We'll get you the flowers."

I nodded affirmation. "No big deal, Ma'am. It'll be a nice change of pace."

She smiled warmly. "_Bene_! Look, meet me in the park just to the east of Hagia Sofia. We'll trade letters for...information!"

* * *

><p>Leaving the shop, Ezio waited until we were out of the bookshop's ear-shot before rounding on me.<p>

"I seem to recall that you and I agreed that we would rarely countermand each other in front of others." Ezio said, and I nodded.

"True, but the situ called for it. I wasn't about to let you pass this kind of opportunity up, and I acted out of necessity."

Ezio shook his head. "That's not your decision to make."

I snorted. "The Sam Hell it ain't! I've seen you take it on the chin when it comes to relationships with women, the latest being Caterina freaking Sforza!"

Ezio raised a hand, his face darkening. "Do not mention that name to me!"

Seeing I was treading on thin ice, I raised my hands. "Fine, but you should at least give her and you a chance. I mean, face it: you're no spring chicken, and I mean that in the best possible way!" **(Courtesy of _The Emperor's New Groove!)_**

Ezio let out a short bark of laughter, shaking his head again. "_Bene, bene, Fratellino_! I'll think about it."

I sighed, knowing that's all I was going to get. "I just think that you, above everybody, should find a girl to settle down with, raise a family. Minerva knows that you deserve some peace and quiet."

Ezio nodded, as began to search the Flower Market for white tulips. "As do I, Arthur, as do I."

* * *

><p>We ended up finding some white tulips near the Hippodrome, and took them to the designated place, where Sofia was waiting, having laid out a small picnic for us.<p>

Actually, for Ezio and her, judging from the size.

"What is this?" Ezio asked.

"A gift. Sit."

Ezio did so, handing her the flowers. "These are beautiful, thank you," she said, accepting the huge bouquet of flowers,, as I looked on.

"So is this," I replied. "And don't think we don't appreciate the trouble you've been through."

She smiled up at me. "I wanted to thank you both for letting me play a small role in your adventure."

Ezio smiled. "I would scarcely have called it small, but a small role is quite enough for this adventure, believe me."

She laughed quietly. "You are a mystery, Ezio Auditore."

He looked worried. "I'm sorry - I do not need to be." She laughed again. "It's fine...It's attractive."

_Okay, time to take my leave, before I puke from the sweetness of the atmosphere!_ "Any luck with the final code?" I asked innocently.

"Ah, the code! Yes, I solved it, a few hours ago." She said, still smiling soppily at Ezio, while handing me a slip of paper.

"I'll just be going then." I said, and set off, listening to Ezio and Sofia flirting as I did so.

I liked the girl, and I prayed Ezio would find a lasting relationship at last._ Goodness knows that Claudia and I put a lot of effort into matchmaking over the years!_

* * *

><p>The last book was located in a place more difficult to go.<p>

Niccolo Polo had managed to conceal it high on the front façade of the mosque of Hagia Sofia itself, above the great curved arch that stood before the principal dome of the former basilica.

_How in hell did he do that, for Pete's sake!?_

I chose to complete my mission in the early hours of the day, where there would be less people around. I doubted anybody would want to see a foreign stranger climbing all over one of their most precious buildings!

I reached the building unchallenged and carefully made my way to the exonarthex, looking up the at the cliff of stone I had to climb.

_ It was a damned good thing I wasn't afraid of heights_!

After a few tries, I was able to get to the place where Sofia had indicated.

There, I found a weathered wooden panel, overhung with cobwebs. I managed to find my way to some nearby pipework which I found solid enough to take my weight, and I used my hookblade to pry it open.

The wooden board fell away, making such a racket to wake up the friggin' dead, and I had to pause to make sure nobody heard this, and to my surprise, nobody came to investigate it.

I reached into the hole, and retracted a book.

It was a copy of Luitpold of Cremona's _Mission to Constantinople_, something that Sofia would like to look at, I thought as I opened to the front cover, watching the glow as it spread into a map, pointing the Forum of the Ox.

_ Follow the yellow brick road, more or less._

* * *

><p>It was quite a walk, midway between the Aqueduct of Valens to the north and the Harbor of Theodosius to the south. <em>My kingdom for a horse!<em>

When I arrived, it was still too early for anyone to be about.

I scanned the huge, deserted square for some kind of a clue, but the marked spot in the book wasn't too descriptive, no matter how bright it was.

I guessed that I would have to go underground.

After a short time, I found a manhole, and in I went.

I soon found myself in a vaulted cavern, on a stone embankment by which an underground river ran. Lit torches stood in sconces on the stone walls, and, as I crept quietly through a narrow, damp corridor, I heard the sound of washing water and loud voices.

Following the sound of them, I came upon two Byzantine Templars.

"What have you found?" one said. "Another key?"

"A door of some kind," his comrade answered. "Bricked up with hard stone."

Edging closer, I saw a number of soldiers a short distance away, standing on an old pier that jutted into the river. One of them was rolling a barrel off one of the two waiting rafts.

"That sounds promising," the first of the nearer Templars said. "The first key was found behind a similar door."

"Is that so? And how did they open that door?"

"They didn't. The earthquake did."

On a signal from the men closer to me, the other soldiers came up with the barrel, which they proceeded to lodge against the door. I could now see that the opening was sealed with close-fitting blocks of some hard black stone, cut by a master mason.

"The earthquake! That was helpful. And all we have is a few barrels of gunpowder," said the second Templar.

"This one should be big enough for the job," replied the first.

As they continued to mouth off, I prepared my gun for action, cocking back the hammer. However, before I could fire, one of the goons caught sight of the barrel glinting in the torchlight.

"What?" he snapped. He saw the gun and leapt in front of the barrel at the same moment that I fired. The ball struck him, and he fell dead instantly. _Really, damn it?_

Now the idiots were onto me.

"It's the Assassin! Let's get out of here!"

I took out another gun, and shot another before they made their way back toward the rafts.

I followed them, trying to reload was running, which didn't go so hot, slowing me up enough to allow them to push off before I could get there myself. By the time I reached onto another raft and loosed the moorings, the soldiers were in midstream.

"Not so fast, kids! This is just the beginning!" I muttered, starting to cast off, beginning the pursuit. As my raft was lighter, the current began to carry me faster.

The Feds seemed to be in a panic, but that didn't stop them from trying to chuck stuff at me, even shoot at me. But these apes were dealing with Arthur _fucking_ Auditore.

The ride was a bit rocky, though, and it did get complicated. _Meh, details_! To make a long story short, by the time we got to the embankment, I stood in front of the Templars.

"Hello, boys!" I said, in my best Crowley imitation, grinning at them. Said imitation was slightly ruined because of my accent, but I gave the gist of it. _And anyway, isn't it the thought that counts?_

"He is a madman," said the first Templar.

I shrugged modestly. Granted, I had pulled some neat tricks, including some wall-climbing, but it was all in a day's work!

"This is no man - this is a demon," a second said. I pretended to look offended, and was about to deliver my usual glib remark, but another of the idiots finished the conversation: "Let's see if demons bleed!" He shouted, coming at me with his sword.

I preformed a hook-and-roll over his back, and pitched him, while he was still off-balance, into the river.

"One down, three to go. Which one of you farts wants to try next?" I asked, smirking.

The ensuing fight was short, and left me with a gashed left arm, and three dead corpses in front of me.

"And that's all she wrote. I guess I'm not a demon after all!" I said, gasping for air.

With that, I made my way back to the sealed door. We had certainly covered some distance downriver, and it took me a good ten minutes to regain the jetty where the rafts had originally been moored.

But at least I knew that I had no immediate fear of pursuit; and the barrel of gunpowder was still lodged where the Templar soldiers had placed it. _Oh, goody! I love explosions._

Replacing my hookblade with my pistols once more, I loaded them, chose a position upstream from where I could take cover behind a projecting buttress, aimed, and fired both pistols.

The bullets struck home, but it took about a minute to explode. When it did, the roar was deafening, and I was afraid I had brought the roof down on my ass, as well as destroyed the key that Ezio wanted.

But, to my relief, I didn't die, and the door was only partially breached. However, it was enough for me too look within it, and see the familiar plinth, on which the circular obsidian key, rested undamaged.

"Yahoo, that was a good one! Bob's your uncle, and Fanny's your aunt!" I whooped, dusting my hands off as I approached the glowing sphere.

Taking it in my hands, I was again flung back in time.

* * *

><p>To me, it appeared that twenty long years had passed. The landscape was one I knew, and there, rising from it like a giant claw, stood the by-now-familiar castle of Masyaf.<p>

Not far from its gate, a group of three Assassins sat near a blazing campfire, the Assassin's faces were those of people whose better dreams have gone dark. When they spoke, their voices were quiet, weary.

"They say he screams in his sleep, calling out for his father, Ahmad Sofian," said one of them.

One of the men scoffed bitterly. "So, Cemal, he calls out for his daddy, does he? What a miserable man Abbas is." _Got that right, junior!_

They had their faces to the fire and did not at first notice the old, cowled man in white robes who was approaching through the darkness.

"It is not our place to judge, Teragani," said the second man, coldly.

"It certainly is, Tazim," Cemal cut in. "If our Mentor has gone mad, I want to know about it."

The old man had come close, and they became aware of him.

"Hush, Cemal," said Tazim. Turning to greet the newcomer, he said, "_Masa'il kher_. (Good afternoon)"

The old man's voice was as dry as a dead leaf. "Water," he said.

Teragani stood and passed him a small gourd which he had dipped in a water jar next to him.

"Sit. Drink," said Cemal.

"Many thanks," said the old man. The others watched him as he drank quietly.

"What brings you here, old man?" asked Tazim, after their guest had drunk his fill.

The stranger thought for a moment before he spoke. "Pity Abbas, but do not mock him. He has lived as an orphan most of his life and been shamed by his family's legacy."

_I guess subtlety is out of the question, Altair?_

Tazim looked shocked at that, but Teragani smiled quietly. He stole a glance at the old man's hand and saw that his left-hand ring finger was missing. Then Teragani looked covertly at the lined, gaunt face.

There was something familiar about it...

"Abbas is desperate for power because he _is_ powerless," the old man continued.

"But he is our Mentor!" Tazim cried. "And, unlike Al Mualim or Altair Ibn-La'Ahad, he never betrayed us!"

"Nonsense," Teragani said. "Altair was no traitor."

He looked at the old man keenly. "Altair was driven out unjustly."

"You don't know what you speak of!" stormed Tazim, and, rising, he strode off into the darkness.

The old man looked at the two remaining Assassins from beneath his cowl but said nothing.

Teragani spoke tentatively. "Is it...Is it you? I heard rumors, but I did not believe them."

The old man gave a ghost of a smile. "I wonder if I might speak with Abbas myself. It has been a long time."

Cemal and Teragani exchanged a look. Cemal drew in a long breath, then refilled the water gourd before returning it to the old man.

"That would be impossible. Abbas employs rogue Fedayeen to keep us from the inner sanctum of the castle, these days."

"Less than half the fighters here are true Assassins now, Altair," added Teragani.

The old man smiled and nodded, almost imperceptibly. "But I can see that the true Assassins remain just that - true," he said.

"You have been away a long time, Mentor. Where did you go?"

"I traveled. Studied. Studied deeply. Rested. Recovered from my losses, learned to live with them. In short, I did what anyone in my position would have done. I also visited our Brothers at Alamut."

"Alamut? How do they fare?"

Altair shook his head. "It is over for them now. The Mongols under Khan Hulagu overran them and took the fortress. They destroyed the library. The Mongols range ever westward like a plague of locusts. Our only hope for now is to reaffirm our presence here and in the west. We must be strong here. But perhaps our bases from now on should be among the people, not in fortresses like Masyaf."

"Is it really you?" Cemal asked.

_Uh, hello! Earth to Cemal! Come in, please!_

"Hush!" Teragani interrupted. "We do not want to get him killed."

Cemal suddenly tensed. "Tazim!" He said, suddenly worried.

Teragani grinned. "Tazim is more bark than bite. He likes an argument for its own sake more than anything else in the world. And he has been as dispirited as us, which hasn't helped his mood. Besides, he left before this little play reached its denouement!"

He turned to Altair, all trace of his former despondency gone. "We clearly have work to do." _Yeah, you can say that again, sonny!_

"So," said the old man, "where do I begin?" _Damned good question._

Cemal looked again at Teragani. They both rose and pulled their hoods up over their heads. "With us, Altair," he said.

Altair smiled and rose in his turn. He got up like an old man, but once he was on his feet, he stood firm.

* * *

><p>The coup had begun, and I had a front-row seat to watch it from. <em>This is going to be fun!<em>

They walked toward the castle together. "You say these men are cruel. Has any man raised his blade against an innocent?"

"Alas, yes," Cemal replied. "Brutality seems to be their sole source of pleasure."

"Then they must die, for they have compromised the Order," said Altair. "But those who still live by the creed must be spared."

"You can put your trust in us," said Cemal.

"I am sure of it. Now leave me. I wish to reconnoiter alone, and it is not as if I am unfamiliar with this place."

"We will remain within call." Altair nodded and turned to face the castle gates as his two companions fell back. He approached the entrance, keeping to the shadows, and passed the sentries without difficulty.

He hugged the walls of the outer bailey, skirting them until he was able to cross to a torch lit guard post not far from the gates of the inner, where he saw two captains engaged in conversation. They were talking about the Altair rumors, and talking trash about how great Abbas was.

Altair took his time to assess the situation. He knew that he had two friends, and two enemies to get rid of. With that decided, he moved into the pool of light.

The two officers turned on him. "Who the hell are you?"

"Clear out, old man, if you know what's good for you."

"Why don't we just cut him down where he stands? The pigs will be glad of the extra meal."

Not impressed, Altair made himself known by showing his missing finger on his left hand. They took a step back, simultaneously drawing their scimitars.

"The usurper returns!"

"Who'd have thought it? After so long."

"What brings you back?"

"A dog returning to his vomit."

Altair sniffed. "You talk too much," he said before killing the two men with his hidden blade.

Others tried to stop him, but Cemal and Teragani backed him, bringing reinforcements with them.

* * *

><p>The following coup happened in short, violent bursts, with Altair ordering those that could be spared to be spared, always telling them to obey the creed.<p>

I was amazed and humbled by this, and made a mental note to do the same back in my time.

Each blow-hard captain and his cronies assaulted him, they were killed by Altair and his growing army.

Not all captains were so stupid, as some joined Altair, bringing Assassins along with them. These included one older captain, seeming to be a veteran, greeted Altair with a friendly handshake. "We could use your wisdom, great Master. Now, more than ever."

He stood back and addressed his troops: "Our Mentor is returned!"

The soldiers sheathed their swords, raised their hoods, and joined Altair in his unstoppable march into the towered keep of Masyaf.

But hardly were they within the confines of the inner bailey than Abbas himself appeared, behind a squad of rogue Assassins.

"Kill him! Kill him now!" Abbas bellowed, but his men hesitated.

"What are you waiting for?" Abbas screamed, his voice cracking.

Still nothing, his men exchanging looks, frozen with indecision. "You fools! He has bewitched you!" Abbas snarled, and then disappeared within the keep.

There were still standoffs, with Assassins confronting each other, but there was no more violence, due to Altair's commands.

Altair raised his hand, his left hand. "There is no witchcraft here, nor sorcery. Do as your conscience bids. But death has stalked here for too long. And we have too many _real_ enemies - we can't afford to turn against each _other_."

One of Abbas's reluctant defenders doffed her cowl and stepped forward, kneeling before Altair. "Mentor," she said.

Two more followed her, then more. Soon, only a small pocket of Assassins stood with Abbas.

Abbas himself stood at the head of the central staircase, flanked by rouge Assassins.

Altair regarded them calmly. They wavered, but did not break. "Tell your men to stand down, Abbas," he commanded.

"Never! I am defending Masyaf! Would you not do the same?"

"Abbas, you corrupted everything we stand for and lost everything we gained. All of it sacrificed on the altar of your own spite."

"As you," Abbas spat back. "You have wasted your life staring into that accursed Apple, dreaming only of your own glory."

Altair took a step forward, and the two men who flanked Abbas did the same. "Abbas, it is true that I have learned many things from the Apple. About life and death, and about the past and the future." With that, he raised his arm, unleashed the pistol from its harness, took it into his grip, and fired.

Abbas staggered and fell, crashing over and over down the long stone staircase, coming to rest at Altair's feet.

He managed to raise himself painfully, high enough to hold his head up, and look Altair in the eye. "I can never forgive you, Altair. For the lies you told about my family, my father. For the humiliation I suffered."

Altair looked regretfully down at his former friend. "They were not lies, Abbas. I was ten years old when your father came into my room, to see me. He was in tears, begging to be forgiven for betraying my family. Then he cut his own throat."

He paused, then continued. "I watched his life ebb away at my feet. I shall never forget that image. But he was not a coward, Abbas. He reclaimed his honor."

Abbas knew he had not much longer, and so he considered Altair. "I hope there is another life after this. At least then I shall see him, and know the truth of his final days. And when it is your time, O Altair, then we will find you. And then there will be no doubts."

With that, Abbas slumped to the stone floor, and the memory ended.

* * *

><p>A minute later, I stood in the small dark room, staring down at the sphere in my hands.<p>

For one of the first times in my life, I knew that I needed to consider soul-searching of my own.

After all that I had done until now, I probably needed it.

* * *

><p><strong>Wooh! That was a long one. Apologies for taking so long, but writing takes time, and I thank you all for your patience. Read and review, lads and lovies!<strong>


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

When I got back to HQ hours later, Ezio was waiting.

"That's all five Keys, lover boy! So, how'd it go with you?" I asked, and Ezio gave me a sly smirk. "I, how do you put it, 'don't kiss and tell!'"

I pretended to look affronted. "Is this the thanks I get for all this work?"

Ezio chuckled. "Forget it, _Fratellino_! Consider this payback for sending one too many clever insults in my direction."

I shrugged. "Fair enough. So, what's next on the menu?"

Ezio was about to answer, but Yusuf strode up to us, and answered my question for me. "Mentor, Master, we have had word - very discreetly - that your ship is ready to sail. I did not know what you had planned to leave us." He finished, somewhat accusingly.

"Oh, yeah, that...well, it was sort of last minute, and we just forgot to tell you." I said, feeling suddenly awkward.

"Is nothing we do a secret?" Ezio added.

"The young prince's spies are almost as good as ours," replied Yusuf. "I expect he sent word to me because he knew you were...otherwise engaged."

I grimaced, looking at Ezio's embarrassed expression. Yusuf continued, this time speaking to Ezio. "We had hoped to have had your broken hidden blade repaired by now, but the only armorer skilled enough to do the work is in Salonika and will not return until next month."

"Keep the blade, and when it is repaired, add it to your own armory," said Ezio. "In exchange for my hook-blade. It is more than a fair trade."

"I am glad you appreciate its qualities, and I think you both have more than mastered its use."

Ezio smiled in return. "We could not have done without it."

The two men grinned at each other, and I waved my hands, mockingly panicked. "All right, all right, enough with the love fest. You're making me sick!"

Ezio rolled his eyes, and Yusuf laughed. My dry wit did tend to be the talk of the HQ, other than my skills, of course.

We got serious as Ezio asked: "I hope, though, that our intended voyage is not common knowledge."

Yusuf laughed. "Not to worry, brother. The captain of your ship is a friend, and already known to you: Piri Reis. You are honored." Yusuf paused, then finished: "But neither of you are going anywhere just yet."

"What do you mean?" Ezio asked.

"The Janissaries have raised the chain across the mouth of the Golden Horn and ordered a full blockade. Until that chain is down, nothing sails in or out."

I snorted, while Ezio seemed proud of this accomplishment. "They raised the Chain just for us?" He asked.

I wasn't so smug. "Then the chain is going down, the hard way!"

Yusuf smiled. "We will celebrate later. Here - I have something for the both of you." With that, he handed us each a sizeable bomb, sphere-shaped.

"Treat these with respect. It has fifty times the kick of our usual bombs."

I whistled. "_Shoooey_! This is going to attract some attention for sure!"

He also gave us smoke bombs, and then wished us good luck in his own language, also telling us where to expect to see our ship at the quay.

He made to leave, but Ezio called him back. "Yusuf, wait. _Un Favore_."

"Yes?"

"There is a woman running a bookshop at the old Polo trading post...Sofia. Look out for her. She is a remarkable lady."

Yusuf gave him a keen look, then promised to do so.

* * *

><p>Placing the bombs carefully into our satchels, and hooking the smoke bombs onto our belts, we hastened north toward the tower opposite Galatia, on the south side of the Horn.<p>

There, Yusuf joined us. "My archers are in place. They'll cover your escape. Now - look - there, in the outer harbor. The red show with the furled white sail and the silver pennant? That is Piri's ship. It is crewed and ready. He is waiting for you."

There was an open area around the tower, surrounded by ramparts and two smaller watchtowers from the tops of which taut haulage ropes led down to jetties and the western and eastern extremities of the area.

At the outer point of one of them, we noticed a weapon emplacement. A massive squitatoria, a flamethrower for Greek Fire, stood primed, heated, and ready for action, manned for a crew of three.

"Damn! I wish I could take that to Maria. She would love using that!" I said, and Ezio smirked. "Be my guest,_ Fratellino_. I would love to see Claudia's reaction when she sees that!"

I winced. _She would rip me a new one!_ "Point taken."

Around the tower itself stood a number of Ottoman guards. There was nowhere to hide, so it was game-time!

We charged at them, alarming them, and allowing them to crowd around us before deploying the smoke bombs. It was easy to dispense with the incompetent bozos using the smoke as cover before setting the bombs at the base of the tower, just beneath the first huge links of the chain, which rose above our heads.

Then we took a few big steps back, and raised our pistols. "I believe it is time to, how do you put it, "_fire in the hole_?'"

I laughed, and nodded. "Damn right! Fire in the hole!"

We fired, then dived for cover behind a large iron bollard on the quay.

The explosion was awesome. Grime and stones were thrown everywhere as the colossal chains snapped free of the tower and whiplashed over our heads into the water, snapping ships' masts as they flew past.

As we watched, the tower itself shifted on its base twice, then collapse in a mass of broken brick and dust.

Moments later, a platoon of goons rushed into the square, and charging for us.

We dodged past them and used our hook blades to scale the eastern watchtower, knocking out both of the guards at its top when we got there and hooking ourselves to the rope leading from it down to the jetty on which the squitatoria was placed.

As we prepared to effect a zip line, arrows from the Janissaries fitting arrows to their bows, but our own archers took care of them. More of our boys moved in to take care of the rest of the goons, as Yusuf called instructions to us, telling us that our getaway ship was in between two ships that we had to take out.

We let the rope take our weight on the hook blades and kicked off from the watchtower, zooming down to the flamethrower emplacement and leaping off just as we reached it, throwing ourselves at the crew, who were preparing to turn their weapon on our fellow Assassins fighting by the tower.

Ezio went left, while I went right. The first guy I met was stabbed, the second shoved into the water.

Ezio took care of the rest, while I scanned the flamethrower. It was on a swivel base, operated by a crank at the left hand side. The cannon was made of brass, its mouth shaped like a lion's head, from which the end of a bronze tube within projected slightly. On its edge it was a flint that could be sparked by the trigger mechanism, which also released the pressurized oil vapor that would be shot from the heated vat in the base of the weapon.

I grinned at Ezio. "Saddle up, bro! It's about to get hot!"

Ezio grimaced. "You're going after the ships?"

I smirked. "Aw, hell yeah!"

With that, I let 'er rip, taking care of any ships between us and our escape ship. Using our hook blades, zip lines, and some acrobatic moves, we made it to Piri Reis's ship before the burning ships sunk beneath the waves.

I can't really explain how we did it, but we did it.

After we gave a parting salute to our Brothers, we turned to Piri Reis, who gave us a broad grin. "You took your time."

"Yes, sorry for the delay." Ezio said, while I was roaring taunts at any of the remaining morons who had tried to keep us from leaving. "YAHOO! You ass-faced douchebags! You just got served by the Auditore brothers, and we'll be right back after these messages, so don't rest easy, Bucket-heads!"

The crew roared with laughter as they hauled up the anchor, and the dhow got moving with the wind.

"You just have to rub the salt on the wound, don't you?" Ezio said to me, and I shrugged. "Well, you know me. I love to make sure they know who pwned them!"

"Lucky I was upwind of that lot," Piri said, indicating the catastrophic mess that had been a nice harbor less than ten minutes ago. "But I expect you noticed that from the beginning."

"Naturally," Ezio said.

"Well, this should be an interesting trip." Piri said, as we steered southbound into the Bosporus.

* * *

><p>At Mersin, we took our leave of the Turkish admiral.<p>

"May Allah protect you, my friends," said the old geezer.

"The same to you, Admiral." I said, shaking his hand.

"I will await your return here. But I cannot stay forever." Ezio nodded, as I decided to let him to the rest of the talking. "I know."

"Will you not take some of my men with you?"

"No - it is best that we travel alone."

I smirked, confirming Ezio's words. "Yeah. shit tends to happen when we travel together." Ezio rolled his eyes at me, as Piri offered to arrange horses for us, which we accepted.

"You are both brave men, and worthy followers of the great Mentor, Altair."

Ezio bowed. "You do us much honor. If we have not returned within two courses of the moon..."

Piri Reis nodded. "Go with whichever God guides you," he said, as we shook hands in farewell.

The two-week voyage was followed by a further two-week trek north, stopping in the village of Nadarim, within sight of the city that was our goal.

We rode into the central square in the early morning. There was no sign of any Feds, so we scaled the nearby churches bell tower, to get a better view of Derinkuyu itself.

We peered through the lightening sky with Eagle Vision, scanning the low buildings that comprised the not far-distant city, a few spires piercing its profile. But there was no obvious sign of any garrison there either.

When we got back down to earth, we were instantly on our guard. My own suspicions were mounted as we spied a figure lurking in the shadows of the neglected church walls. We approached, and the figure spun round to face us, brandishing a dagger.

It was a young woman. Tough, wiry, tanned, almost feral. She reminded me a little of Claudia, only the former wasn't half as beautiful.

"Not so close, _adi herif_!" she growled.

Ezio raised his hands. "Who are you calling a pig?" he asked, calmly.

"Who are you? Manuel's scum?"

I stepped forward. "Easy now. We were friends of Tarik, more or less."

The girl hesitated, then lowered her blade. "Who are you?"

I bowed to her. "Arthur and Ezio Auditore, at your service."

She relaxed even more. "We had word from the young prince, as we had news of Tarik's end. A bad business, and just when he was so close. I am Dilara, Tarik's personal agent here. Why have they only sent you two? Why not more? Did they not get my reports in _Kostantiniyye_?"

I smirked. "We're enough. Where are the rest of your people?"

Dilara spat. "Captured by Byzantines over a week ago. I was dressed to look like a slave. But the others..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Are you capable fighter?"

I nodded. "You bet we are, sweetheart!"

She flashed a smile. "When your friend makes up his mind, come and find me. In the town, over there. I'll be waiting by the west gate of the underground city." With that, she whisked away.

"I like her. She reminds me of Claudia and Maria." I said, as we prepared our hook blades and various other weapons.

"Then it would probably be a good idea for them not to meet. Imagine the damage they could cause!"

I nodded. "Duly noted. Now let's go kick some Templar ass!"

* * *

><p>We found Dilara waiting at the appointed place two hours later. The gate she had mentioned was large, iron-bound, and shut.<p>

She greeted us curtly and began without further preamble: "The Byzantines took my men into this cave system some days ago. From what I can tell, this gate is the least protected of the lot. Every so often, the soldiers bring refuse through here, but it is deserted most of the time."

I nodded. "So - we sneak in, free your boys, and lead them out through here?"

"Exactly."

Ezio tried the door, but it didn't budge. He turned to give Dilara with a disappointed smirk, clearly feeling sheepish.

"I was going on to say, after you unlock it from the inside," Dilara concluded, drily. I was laughing too hard to add my usual sarcastic comment.

"Of course," Ezio said, giving me a kick in the shins.

"Come with me."

She led the way to where they had sight of another larger gate, made of a huge circular stone that could be rolled upon and closed in a stone track. It opened as we watched, and soldiers emerged and formed ranks before marching off on patrol.

"The main entrance is there, at the foot of that hill. But it is well guarded."

I nodded. "Okay, wait here. Come on, Brother."

"Where are you going?"

"We need to get a feel for this place. And then kill a few of those fuckers down there, but the later will happen later." I winced, more from Ezio's kick than realizing I had cussed in front of a woman, a no-no in this era.

"You'll need a guide," she sighed, after hiding a laugh with a cough.

"Why, pray tell?"

She sighed. "This place is a warren. See those towers?"

"Yes."

"Ventilator shafts, and water conduits. There are eleven floors of the city, and they go down three hundred feet."

"We'll manage. You'd be surprised at the places we've been." Ezio said.

"You're an arrogant man."

I smirked at her. "No, we are cautious. And we are not unprepared. We know this place was made by Phrygians fifteen hundred years ago, and we know a little bit of their geography."

She didn't look impressed. "Then you'll also know what's down there: an underground river system at the very bottom, and above it, on ten more levels, churches, schools, shops, stores, stables even; and room for fifty thousand people."

Ezio nodded. "Big enough to conceal a garrison, in fact."

"You'll need a guide."

"We need somebody here." I watched the two argue, as if I was watching a tennis match.

She sighed. "Then go with God, but be quick. As soon as the patrols have all come out, they'll roll the gate closed again. With luck, you'll be able to get in with the supply wagons over there. I'll wait by the west gate."

I nodded. "You do that."

With that, we took our leave.

* * *

><p>We blended in with the local Byzantine people, who seemed less than happy with the new military presence in their midst, and managed to pass through the gate, walking alongside an oxcart, without difficulty.<p>

The torch lit interior illuminated yellowish beige walls of soft volcanic rock, besmirched with the soot of ages, and yet the air was fresh.

The streets - the broad, grimy corridors - were alive with soldiers and citizens, jostling one another as they went about their business, and we made our way among them, penetrating ever deeper into the underground city's interior.

At last, on the second level belowground, we came upon a spacious hall, with a barrel-vaulted roof and decorated with faded frescos. We made our way along one of the galleries and looked down on the figures in the main room twenty feet below him.

The acoustic was good, and we were easily able to hear what the two men there were saying to one another.

We recognized them immediately. The fat-body Manuel Palaiologos, and the skinny Shahkulu. Near them, a group of bodyguards stood at attention.

We noted the broad tunnel leading of westward, possibly to the west gate Dilara had shown us earlier.

"How soon before my soldiers are trained to use those guns?" Manuel was asking.

"A few weeks at most," replied the dour Turkmen.

Manuel looked thoughtful. "The main Janissary force will know I have betrayed them by now. But do they have the resources for retribution?"

"Doubtful. The sultan's war with Selim commands most of their attention."

Manuel began to laugh, but it ended in coughing and gagging. "Ah! What the hell is that smell? Have the ventilators been blocked?"

"Apologies, Manuel. Perhaps the wind has changed. Some of the Ottoman prisoners we took a week or so ago turned out to be...so fragile. We had to put them somewhere after they met with their unfortunate...accident."

Manuel frowned lightly. "Shahkulu, try to moderate your anger. I know that the sultan humiliated your people. But there is no need to spit on men who are below us."

"Humiliated my people!" Shahkulu shouted. "He tried to crush us as if we were so many roaches! That is why I sided with Ismail of Persia and took the name 'Shahkulu' - servant of the Shah. Under that name, I will prevail against whatever the Seljuks try to throw against the Turkmen people, and those who follow the Safavid, and the law of Shia."

"Of course, of course, but nevertheless, get rid of the evidence!"

With that, Fatso took his leave.

Shahkulu snapped his fingers at the remaining bodyguards. "You three, gather the corpses and dump them outside on the western dunghill."

The sergeant of the guard looked nervous. "Shahkulu, I don't the key to the west gate."

Shahkulu exploded in with rage. "Then find it, idiot!" He bellowed, storming off.

"Who has the key? Any idea?" said the sergeant, testily.

"I think Nikolos has it. He's on leave today."

"Then he'll be at the market on Level Three."

Ezio turned to me. "Go take care of Shahkulu, while I'll go after the key. I have a feeling he is going to kill more of the prisoners if we don't stop him."

I nodded in complete agreement.

I set off after Shahkulu and used my Eagle Vision to find him, after a long search, in a small secluded public square. I found it mostly from the agonized screams coming from it.

A number of Ottomans were sitting there, their hands bound.

As I watched, one of them was thrown to the ground by Byzantine guards, with Shahkulu delivering the blows, wearing an executioner's mask.

Horrified by the continued blows and screams, I readied a smoke bomb, then jumped as Ezio stepped up beside me, followed closely by Dilara.

"You took your time." I said, and Ezio raised an eyebrow. "I could say the same for you."

I shrugged, as the screaming got louder. "_Whatevs_. You two, Take out the guards. I'll take out Scrawny."

Dilara looked at me. "Just make sure you finish the rat."

I nodded. "With pleasure!"

With that, I tossed the smoke bomb, and in the immediate confusion, my two comrades took care of the guards, as I took on Scrawny.

He had drawn a scimitar, and was standing his ground, looking for his attackers. I waited until he was looking away before leaping at him, plunging my blade into the top of his chest between the jawline of the mask and his body armor. Dark blood bubbled forth around my fist as I held the blade there.

Shahkulu fell, and I did the same, ending up kneeling over the man, whose struggles were losing their violence. His eyes closed.

"People like you don't deserve any pity." I snarled.

But then Shahkulu's eyes sprang open in a manic stare, and a mailed fist shot to my throat, gripping it tightly. He started to laugh crazily, and I sank the blade deeper.

With a last spasm, he thrust me from him, sending me sprawling, before breathing his last.

I picked myself up, wiping my blade on the dead man's cloak. I gave Shahkulu's body a nudge with my foot, to check if he was gone, but he was.

We freed the prisoners, who told us to take out Manuel and his guns.

In return, Ezio told them to get out of sight, and when they heard the explosions, to run.

With that, Ezio and I left to go get Manuel.

* * *

><p>There were great vaults in the underground city, vast man-made caverns where the gunpowder and arms caches for Manuel's army were stored. A system of block-and-tackle pulley systems for transporting powder kegs on taut ropeways from one place to another had been set up, and, as we watched from a vantage point in a gallery we had reached on the Fith Level, we saw groups of Byzantine civvies engaged in just such activity, under the watchful eyes of Manuel's goons.<p>

We would have to move quick to stay ahead of the news of Shahkulu's death, but these morons seemed supremely confident in what they were doing.

We weaved our way through the crowds of workers, noticing that hundreds of barrels of explosives were littered along the walls. Once we slipped past everyone, we broached a barrel at ground level with the point of our swords, and after collecting streams of powder in a leather pouch, laid a trail down the aisle between the rows of barrels to the entrance of the second hall. We did the same thing there, and in the third hall, until the trail reached the arched door leading out of it.

Then we waited patiently until all the ordinary folks had moved out of harm's way for the night. Now, only the guards remained.

We made sure our retreat was assured, took up positions a few yards from the exit, unleashed our pistols, and fired into the nearest barrels.

Then, of course, we got the hell out of dodge! The awesome serial explosions that followed rocked the foundations of the underground city like an earthquake made me grin and let out a _Rebel Yell_. Ceilings crumbled and fell behind us as we fled.

We reached the great chamber on the Second Level at about the same time as Manuel, who stumbled in, surrounded by a large force of crack guards.

We concealed ourselves behind a buttress, watched, and waited.

We intended to get it all done tonight, and we had seen that Manuel had the missing Masyaf key - the one the Templars had unearthed beneath the Palace of Topkapi. That meant that Fatso was trying to scamper.

"What the hell is going on?" Bellowed Manuel, half in anger, half in fear.

"Sabotage, Manuel," said a Templar captain at his elbow. "You need to take cover."

Hordes of screaming people distracted him, and he shoved his captain aside to placate his people on a podium.

As he tried to rally them, we approached slowly, coming out of hiding. He broke off his _yaddering_ when he caught sight of us, and he swore sharply, and sprinted toward the exit.

For a fat douchebag, he sure could move, but no matter where he went, we followed.

We cornered him at last in an empty house, carved out of the living rock on the First Level.

Manuel turned to face us with a curious smile on his fat lips. "Are you both here for the Masyaf key? Is that it? Have you come to rob us of two years of effort, to recover what the Assassins threw away."

I shook my head, as Ezio and I advanced upon him. "Don't even think about trying to blame us for your evil schemes. By the looks of it, you've never done a good day's work for a long time, let alone a good work-out!"

"You wage a losing battle, Assassin!" Manuel continued, beginning to sound desperate. "Our numbers are growing, and our influence is expanding. We are hidden in plain sight!"

I took a mocking look around us. "Well, damn, look at that! I think we just put a dent into your numbers, and you are about to join them!"

Manuel backed up, holding out his hand pleadingly, as we continued to approach. "Stop and think for a moment. Think about the lives you have disrupted, the anarchy you have sown here! You! You take advantage of a poor and displaced people, using us to further your own vain quest! But we fight for dignity! We fight to restore peace to this troubled land."

Ezio took over on the talking. "Templars are always quick to talk of peace, but very slow to concede power."

Manuel made a dismissive gesture. "That is because power begets peace, you idiots! It cannot happen in reverse. These people would drown without a firm hand to lift them up and keep them in line!"

Ezio smiled. "And to think you are the monster I came here to kill."

Manuel looked us in the eye, seeming resigned to his fate. Ezio did the honors, and he didn't react much, other than the usual speech about how the Templars were the only ones with vision and the answers.

After he died, we took the key, and left his body resting against a stone bench, the dreams of an Empire ending with him.

* * *

><p>The upper levels of the underground city had been sealed off by Templar and Byzantine troops, and Ezio and I were convinced that the underground river system that occupied the Eleventh Level of the complex was our best chance of escape.<p>

Making our way for the smoke and confusion of the almost hellish atmosphere, we came upon a jetty on an artificial underground lake, with a glimmer of light where the river feeding the lake led away from it again into the open air.

Suddenly, we caught sight of a raft making its way towards the light, carrying a handful of Byzantine sailors, and Prince Ahmet Osman.

Ahmet had seen us also, and directed his oarsmen to make their way toward him.

When he came within speaking range, he called mockingly to us. "Poor Manuel. The last of the Palailogi."

Ezio was shocked, but I wasn't. I knew that bastard was up to no good, but I had a feeling that I didn't know the half of it.

"Looks like somebody has been playing others for fools!" I returned.

He shrugged. "The Assassins aren't the only ones with spies. But I should not have left Manuel in charge of our Masyaf expedition. He was an arrogant man, impossible to keep in line."

Ezio shook his head. "You disappoint me, Ahmet. Why the Templars?"

"Well, Ezio and Arthur; yes, I know who you both are. It is like this: I am tired of all the pointless blood feuds that have pitted father against son and brother against brother. To achieve true peace, mankind must think and move as one body, with one master mind."

I laughed. "And let me guess: you are the mastermind? You know, you Templars never change. You hide your ego and selfishness in pretty words, but I know what you are about. It's all about power, you pathetic piece of shit!"

He smiled, ignoring me and speaking as if I was not there. "The secrets in the Grand Temple will give us just what I want, and Altair will lead us to it."

I laughed. "You won't make it there alive, scum bag."

Ezio seemed to agree with me. "You delude yourself! Altair's secrets are not for you! And you will never find the Grand Temple."

"We'll see." Ahmet turned slightly, and we followed his gaze to where there were a number of Feds trying to sneak up on us. "In any case, I am not interested in arguing morals and ethics with you. I am here for the Masyaf keys."

I smirked, holding up the key with one hand, and giving him the one-fingered salute with the other. "As the Spartans told the Persians concerning the former's weapons, in the Battle of Thermopylae, _'come and get them_!'"

Ahmet sniffed. "Perhaps I should ask someone who may be better informed than you, Sofia Sartor. Have I got the name right?"

Ezio stiffened. "She knows nothing! Leave her be!"

Ahmet smiled. "We shall see." He motioned to his men, who started to steer the craft away.

"I will kill you if you touch her!" Ezio roared.

"I know you'll try, my dear Ezio. But I doubt you shall succeed."

He raised his voice, speaking to the men who were coming for us. "Kill them now and get the key. Then bring it to me immediately."

I laughed coldly. "If you are stupid enough to believe that your primates can even cause us trouble, then your plans are already _fucked_! I'm going to kill you, slowly and painfully, and that is a promise! Why don't you join your boys, and we can get the ball rolling!"

"I have far too much respect for my own safety," replied Ahmet. "I know your reputations, and I've seen an example of your work here today. Cornered, as you are, I imagine you're doubly dangerous. Besides, I detest violence."

With that, he left us to die.

There was no escape or retreat, no choice except to kill these apes. A few of said primates had muskets, which were pointed directly at us.

They fired, and we threw ourselves flat on the jetty. Arrows from behind and above them fell on the Byzantine troops, incapacitating them all in a sudden hail of death.

When we got to our feet, Dilara was walking towards us, looking smug. "Can't leave you alone for a minute," she said.

After congratulating her, we found out she had a way out: a key to a nearby gate that was nearby, which she led us to. "Damn, missy, I'm impressed," I said, and she smiled. "So you should be. Tell them in _Kostantiniyye_ that they can rest easy that their people here are doing a good job."

With that, she lead us to an underground exit, and gave us horses and provisions. "Go on, go. You should be able to make Nigde by the end of the week. You'll be back in Mersin by the full moon if nobody cuts you down on the way."

I nodded, as the grim Ezio mounted his horse. "Well, all right. What about you?"

"Our work here isn't finished. In any case, we don't move without a direct order from _Kostantiniyye_. Give my regards to Tarik."

With that, we said our goodbyes, and hurried in the indicated direction.

Things were coming to a head, and we needed to get stuff done.

* * *

><p><strong>And that's it for another chapter. After this era is done, Arthur Auditore will return, but in a different role: a mentor to a generation of time travelers. A new Assassin will join the time-traveling saga, placed back in the era of 18th century New Orleans, under the care of a certain Aveline de Grandpre! <strong>

**Until then, enjoy the last chapters of Arthur and Ezio Auditore's story, and don't forget to review. Bye for now!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

The journey back to the coast was fast and mercifully uneventful...at least, for Ezio.

Piri greeted us, and showed us to our cabins.

Ezio turned to me, just before we entered said cabins, handing me the key we had taken from Manuel's dead fingers. "I need to rest before we reach Constantinople, and I need you to keep up with viewing the key's memories. Hopefully it is our last key, for both our sakes."

I nodded. I didn't really feel like arguing with him, as he seemed understandably troubled. "Sure thing."

Before Ezio could enter his own cabin, I took him by the shoulder. "Ezio, we will kill the son of a bitch, and save your girl. Just take it easy, and take it slow."

Ezio nodded, thanking me silently before entering his cabin, leaving me with the disc-like stone. In the cabin, I went down the rabbit hole again, hopefully for the last time.

* * *

><p>As I was drawn into the scene, at one with it, and yet not part of it at all, I know that ten more years had passed since last I was at Masyaf.<p>

I watched, and as I watched, was lost in the events that unfolded...

The men stood in the sunlit inner bailey of Masyaf, under the shade of a spreading cinnamon tree of great age.

Altair, not looking so young himself, stood with two stocky Venetians in their early thirties.

The older of the two wore a crest on his sleeve, a blue shield on which, in yellow, was a jug surmounted by a single chevron, over which three pentangle stars were set in row, the whole topped by a silver helm.

A little way beyond where they were standing, a large number of Assassins were in the process of preparing for battle.

The Mentor touched the man's sleeve in a familiar, friendly way. His movements were that of an old man, but they were not feeble movements, even though he was ninety-one now.

"Niccolo," said Altair. "We have long held the Polo family, you and your brother here, close to our hearts, though our time spent together was, I know, brief enough. But I have faith that this Codex, which I now place in your hands, will answer many of the questions you have yet to ask."

_Uh, Polo, as in Marco Polo?_

Altair gestured to an aide, who stepped forward to place a leather-bound volume in Niccolo Polo's hands. "Altair, this gift is...invaluable. Grazie."

Altair nodded in acknowledgment as the aide handed him a small bag. "So, where will you go next?" He asked, turning to the elder Polo brother.

"Maffeo and I will return to Constantinople for a time. We intend to establish a guild before returning to Venice."

Altair smiled. "Your son Marco will be eager to hear his father's wild stories." _Ah, that answers my question!_

"At three, he is a little young for such tales. But one day soon, indeed, he will hear them."

They were interrupted by the arrival of Darim, who came rushing through the inner gate toward them. "Father! A vanguard of Hulagu's Mongols has broken through! The village is threatened!"

Altair stiffened, and his tone turned urgent. "Niccolo, your cargo and provisions are waiting for you by the village gate. We will escort you there. Then you must make all speed."

"Thank you, Mentor."

Altair then turned to two Assassins who had detached themselves from the larger group, all now in full readiness for the battle ahead and already riding out.

"Prepare the catapults," he ordered, "and watch for my signal." They bowed, and ran off.

"Stay close," Altair commanded the two Polo brothers.

"We must make our way to the village immediately, Father," Darim said. "I think you had better remain with Niccolo and Maffeo. I will clear the path ahead."

"Take care, Darim, and keep an eye on the trebuchets." Altair looked over to where the massive sling-mounted catapults were being pulled into place by their crews.

Darim smiled. "If they hit me, they will hit a dozen Mongols at the same time."

"Kahn Hulagu is not an enemy to be trifled with."

"We are ready for him."

Altair turned to his guests. "Come," he said.

They mounted their horses that had been readied for them and rode out of the fortress at an easy pace, taking a route well clear of the main battle, which had been joined on the slopes of the nearby foothills.

"Will you hold them?" asked Niccolo, unable to disguise the nervousness in his voice.

"For as long as necessary," Altair reassured him, calmly. "I envy you your journey," he continued. "Byzantium is a splendid city."

Niccolo smiled, despite the danger nearby, trying to make light of it, like Altair was doing. "You prefer the ancient name, I see. Have you ever been there?"

"Long ago. When you Venetians diverted the Frankish Crusaders to attack it instead of Jerusalem."

"Constantinople was Venice's greatest trade river then. It was a great coup."

"It opened Europe to the east in more ways than one."

"The Mongols will never get that far," said Niccolo, but his voice was nervous.

Altair didn't pick him up on that. Instead, he said, "That little conflict in 1204 prevented me from bringing the Creed to Europe."

"Well, with luck and patience, we will finish what you started."

"If you get the chance, the view from the top of Haghia Sofia is the best in the city."

"How does one get to the top?"

Altair smiled. "With training and patience."

_Damn right it does!_

He paused. "I take it that, when you get away from here, you won't try the overland route there? That you'll be sailing to Byzantium?"

"Yes, as the saying goes. We'll ride to Latakia and get a ship there. The roads in Anatolia are fogged by memories of the Crusades."

"Ah," said Altair, "the deepest passions can be the most deadly."

"Do visit us if you are able, Altair. We will have plenty of space for you and your entourage."

"No," said Altair. "Thank you, but that is no country for old men, Niccolo. I will stay here, as I always must now."

"Well, should you change your mind, our door is always open."

Altair was watching the battle. The trebuchets had been brought into play and found their range. The stones they were hurling into the Mongol ranks were wreaking havoc.

Darim came riding over from the main body of Assassin cavalry.

"We will rest briefly in the village," said Altair to him as he rode up. "You seem to have the enemy in check."

"But for how long, Father?"

"I have every faith in you. After all, you are not a boy any longer."

"I am sixty-two years old."

"You make me feel quite ancient," Altair joked. But Darim could see the pallor on his cheeks and realized how tired his father really was. "Of course, we will rest, and see our friends off properly."

They rode round to the village stables, and the Polo brothers made haste to transfer their belongings to the packhorses provided for them, together with the two fresh mounts for their journey westward to the coast.

Altair, finally able to rest, slumped a little and leaned against Darim for support.

"Father, are you hurt?" asked Darim in a voice of concern. _Yeah, dumbass, it's called 'old age!'_

He escorted him to a bench under a tree. "Give me a moment," Altair said, in a great deal of pain. _I suddenly hoped that I wouldn't live so long as Altair!_

"The end of an era," he whispered, looking at his son and smiling. Then he took the bag the aide had handed him earlier and removed its contents. Five obsidian discs, intricately carved. He stacked them neatly.

"When I was very young," he said. "I was foolish enough to believe that our Creed would bring an end to these conflicts. If only I had possessed the humility to say to myself, I have done enough for one life. I have done my part."

With an effort, he rose to his feet. "Then again, there is no greater glory than fighting to find the truth."

He looked across the village, and beyond it, to the battle. Niccolo Polo came up. "We are ready," he said.

"A last favor, Niccolo," said Altair, giving him the stone discs. "Take these with you and guard them well. Hide them, if you must."

Niccolo gave him a quizzical look. "What are these...artifacts?"

"They are indeed artifacts of a kind. They are keys, each of them imbued with a message."

Niccolo examined one closely, still puzzled. "A message for whom?"

Altair took the key in his hand. "I wish I knew..."

He raised the key high. It began to glow. He closed his eyes, lost in concentration.

And the memory ended after that.

* * *

><p>"You do now, Altair, you do now." I muttered, before giving the key to Ezio after explaining the memory within it.<p>

When we got back to Constantinople, the port was crowded as ever, though it was a humid and oppressive day.

There was a particularly dense mob around a herald, who stood on a podium at the shore end of the main quay. He was attended by a squad of Janissaries in their flowing white robes. _Jeez, it's the cops!_

While the red dhow was unloading, we walked over to listen to what the man had to say. "Citizens of the Empire, and travelers from foreign lands, take heed! By order of the Janissaries, new restrictions now apply to all who travel to and from the city. I hereby give notice that a reward of ten thousand _akce_ will be given without question to anyone who brings in information that leads to the immediate arrests of Ezio and Arthur Auditore, Assassins."

_Well, shit. What else is new?_

We exchanged a glance with Piri Reis, who came over to us discreetly. "Make your best way out of here," he said. "Have you your key with you."

"Yes, sir!"

"Then take your weapons and go. I'll take care of the rest of your gear." Nodding our thanks, we slipped discreetly through the crowd and into the town.

* * *

><p>We made our way by an indirect route to Sofia's shop, checking every so often that we had not been followed or recognized.<p>

When we were close, we found the shop door wide open, a small crowd was gathered nearby, and a group of Yusuf's Assassins, including Dogan and Kasim, stood on guard.

We crossed to them quickly. "What exactly is going on here?" I asked Kasim.

"Inside," said Kasim tersely. I saw that he had tears in his eyes.

We entered the shop, and saw nothing unusual until entering the inner courtyard.

I swore, and Ezio cringed. Lying across a bench, facedown, lay Yusuf. The hilt of a dagger protruded between his shoulder blades.

"There was a note pinned to his back by the dagger," said Dogan, who had followed us in. "It's addressed to you both. Here it is."

He handed Ezio and I a bloodstained sheet of parchment.

"Have you read it?" I asked. Dogan nodded.

"When did this happen?"

"Today. Can't have been long ago because the flies haven't really gathered yet."

Ezio and I were caught in between tears and rage, as I drew the dagger from Yusuf's back. There was no fresh blood to flow.

"You have earned your rest, Brother." I said, and Ezio finished: "_Requiescat in Pace_."

Then I enfolded the sheet. Its message, from Ahmet, was short, but its contents made me tremble with rage. _I was going to enjoy killing that son of a bitch._

Ezio turned to the other Assassins, who had entered the courtyard. "Where is Sofia?" He sounded every bit as pissed as I felt.

"We don't know where he has taken her."

"Anyone else missing?"

"We cannot find Azize."

Ezio gathered us around him. "Brothers! Sisters! It seems as if Ahmet wishes the whole city to rise against us while Yusuf's murderer watches and waits in the Arsenal, laughing. Fight with me, and let us show him what it means to cross the Assassins!"

* * *

><p>We made our way en masse to the Arsenal, and as Ezio and my fellow Assassins dealt quickly with Ahmet's goons, I went hunting for the asshole, who showed little alarm when I quickly cornered him.<p>

I threw him to the floor, and gripped him by the throat. And then I drove my hidden-blade furiously into the stone, inches from Ahmet's judgement.

"Where's the girl, you Templar piece of shit? Start talking, or I'll start cutting!" I snarled into his face.

Ahmet laughed in return. "Such wrath!" he said, then coughed as I slammed a fist into his chest.

"Where is she?"

"My dear Arthur, if you think you are in a position to dictate terms, you may as well kill me now and be done with it."

I was about to kill him, but Ezio caught me by the shoulder, giving me a look. I paused, then let Ahmet stand back up, letting Ezio take my place.

"I am sorry it had to come to this," said Ahmet. "Two men who should be friends quarreling over...what? The keys to some dusty old archive." He said to Ezio.

"We both strive toward the same end, my friends. Only our methods differ. Do you not see that?"

I rolled my eyes, knowing what was coming: the Templar rationale. "Peace, stability. A world where men can live without fear. People desire truth, yes, but even when they have it, they refuse to look. How do you fight this kind of ignorance?"

_He actually seemed to actually believe the bullshit he was saying_!

Ezio countered: "Liberty can be messy, Prince; but it is priceless."

I joined in: "Tyranny is always better organized than freedom!"

"Of course," Ahmet replied, drily. "And when things fall apart, and the lights of civilization dim, Ezio and Arthur Auditore can stand above the darkness, and say proudly: 'We stayed true to our Creed.'"

Ahmet paused, then continued. "I will open Altair's archive, I will penetrate his library, and I will find the Grand Temple. And, with the power that is hidden there, I will destroy the superstitions that keep men divided."

I snorted. "You slimy parasite, you are actually laboring under the delusion that you will make it to Altair's Library alive. Not in this life, Asshat!"

Ahmet snorted impatiently and made to leave.

Before he did, he turned to us once more. "Bring the keys to Galata Tower," he said. "Do this, and Sofia Sartor will be spared. And do not delay, Auditores. My brother's army will be here before too long. When it arrives, everything will change. And I need to be ready for that."

With that, Ahmet left.

Ezio and I watched him go, signaling to our men not to hinder him. Ezio turned to me. "Get the keys. Join me at our Headquarters."

I nodded. at any other time, I would have argued, but I could see Ezio was in no mood to do so.

* * *

><p>I made my way to the Istanbul Assassin's HQ at all possible speed. Once there, I gathered the four keys together, and put them in a shoulder satchel.<p>

I rearmed as well, and took both of Leonardo's parachutes he had made for each of us, thinking that we would perhaps need a quick escape from the top of the tower.

But before we went to the Tower, we needed to attend the funeral of Yusuf.

Ezio joined me and the other Assassins at the nearby cemetery. "We need to choose a new leader to take his place," he said, after pulling me aside.

I shrugged. "Fine, any ideas?"

"Dogan. Yusuf thought very highly of him."

I nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

After we had done this, and laid Yusuf to rest, Ezio turned to the rest of the Assassins. "Our enemy is close. When the obsequies are done, take up your positions around the Tower and there await our command."

The sooner Sofia was safe, the better.

* * *

><p>We came upon Ahmet, flanked by a single guard, on a rampart near the Tower's foot.<p>

"Where is she?" Ezio demanded.

Ahmet smiled irritatingly. "I admire you, Ezio, but your bloodlust makes it hard for me to call you a friend."

I snorted. "Bloodlust, my ass! We're not the ones who ordered an attack on his own nephew. Besides, you should be more worried about _me_!"

Ahmet lost some of his smile. "He was to be kidnapped, Assassin; not killed."

I smiled humorlessly. "Ah, now I get it! Kidnapped by the Byzantines, so that his uncle could rescue him, and be heralded a hero. How thoughtful of you!"

Ahmet shrugged. "That was more or less the plan." Then he nodded.

At once half a dozen Templars appeared from nowhere and surrounded us.

"Wow, and here I thought you couldn't make any dumber moves." I said, but Ahmet ignored me. "Now, _Messere_ Auditore, the keys, if you please."

But I made a signal of my own. Behind the semicircle of Templars, a larger number of Assassins materialized, scimitars in their hands.

"Go ahead, try to kill us. It's not like our comrades need an excuse to murder your smug ass!" I snarled.

"The girl first," finished Ezio coldly.

Ahmet chuckled. "She's all yours." He made a gesture skywards. Ezio followed the direction of his arm and saw, atop the tower, a woman standing next to a guard, who was clearly poised to throw her over the edge. The woman was wearing a green dress, but her head was covered in a burlap sack. She was bound hand and foot.

"Sofia," Ezio gasped involuntarily.

"Tell your men to back off!" snapped Ahmet. Fuming, Ezio did so, then I threw the satchel containing the keys to Ahmet.

He caught it, checked in it, and then grinned. "As I said, she's all yours!"

With that, he disappeared from the rampart, his men following. He boarded a waiting carriage, which sped off through the city, heading toward the North Gate.

Ezio, who was already making his way up the tower, called back over his shoulder: "Arthur, kill him for me, would you? I'll follow as soon as I can!"

I grinned, and called back, "With pleasure!"

With that, I started off after the bastard, grabbing my own horse from our HQ before doing so, hoping I could actually catch up with him, what with the time I lost doing so.

* * *

><p>I was out of the city, and into the countryside before I was able to find his carriage.<p>

Ahmet, seeing me charging toward him, leaned out of his window, and shouted: "Well well! You have come to see me off, have you?"

The two men posted on the back outer seat of his carriage had turned round, trying to steady themselves as they aimed crossbows at me.

"Bring them down! NOW!" Ahmet shouted.

_Uh, them?_

Just then, Ezio and Sofia came into my periphery vision, riding their own carriage. "You took your time! Hello, Sofia!" I called to them, as we urged our horses forward.

"We had to find our own ride, _Fratellino_! Look out!" As we came abreast of his carriage, Ahmet's coachman swerved so that he crashed into us, crushing my horse and slamming into Ezio.

I had just enough time to leap onto Ezio's carriage before my poor horse died, somehow leaping into the driver's seat, as Ezio was thrown clear. I watched him grab a baggage rope that was attached to the top of the carriage as Sofia grabbed the reins.

I then winced as he slammed onto the road, and was dragged along until deploying his own parachute, lifting into the air above us.

He then positioned himself close to us, cut his parachute strings, and somehow land next to me and Sofia in the driver's seat. "Not bad, for an old man!"

Ezio glared at me. "Oh, shut up!"

"Jesus must smile upon you both," said Sofia.

"You've brought the horses under control...few people would have been able to do that. Perhaps he smile on you, too." Ezio said to Sofia.

As they were flirting, we were gaining on Ahmet again.

"Your determination would be charming if it were not also so infuriating!" He yelled back, and I turned to Ezio, ignoring the bastard for a moment.

"For the record, bringing your girlfriend on a potentially deadly carriage chase is not what I would call 'romantic, just sayin'...!'"

"Shut up, Arthur!"

We were hammering toward a village where, as we could see, a platoon of Ottoman troops were stationed.

"Stop them!" Ahmet roared as his carriage passed them. "They are trying to assassinate your prince!"

The soldiers hurried to lower the barrier's arm that they were guarding as Sofia charged toward them, smashing through the barrier and scattering soldiers like chickens in her wake.

"Sorry!" she cried, then proceeded to knock down a whole row of market stalls lining the main street.

"Oh! Forgive me!" she called.

"Sofia, you must be careful," Ezio said.

"I don't want one single crack out of you about women drivers," she snapped, as I roared with laughter, her teeth bared as our carriage clipped one of the two poles supporting a banner across the street, bringing it down on the heads of the infuriated villagers storming in their wake.

"What are you doing?" said Ezio, his face white.

"What do you think I'm doing? Keeping us on track!"

Meanwhile, Ahmet's coachman had gained ground, and the front coach was flying out of the village as Ahmet urged his men on.

"Uh, Ezio." I said, looking back. A cavalry patrol had set off in pursuit of us.

The crossbowmen at the back of Ahmet's carriage got a few shots off, and one of the bolt grazed Sofia's shoulder. "Aie, Ezio!" She cried.

While Ezio checked her wound, I lost my temper. "Okay, you know what? _Fuck _these guys_!"_ I stood up, and shot both of the crossbowmen on the carriage, while Ezio shot one of the cavalrymen, creating a mighty snarl-up for the rest of the horsemen.

"Glad you've made yourselves useful at last!" said Sofia, as we sped away from the confusion behind them.

But looking ahead, we could see that the road led through a very narrow gorge between two high cliffs that reared on either side.

"Sofia, that's a little too narrow!" I said nervously.

"Brace yourself," said Sofia, snapping the reins.

We flew into the gorge at top speed. The bare rock flashed inches past Ezio's shoulder, who let out a weak moan.

"Motion sickness is a _bitch_, ain't it?"

"For the last _cazzo _time_, shut up!" _

We past through another town, crashing through another marketplace.

"Look out! Up ahead!" Ezio shouted. The guards had led Ahmet through, but they'd got their roadblock down behind him this time, and stood ready, pikes held out toward Sofia's horses. Unpleasant looks of anticipated triumph lit up their mean faces.

"It's ridiculous," said Sofia.

"What is?" Ezio and I asked.

"Well, look...they've got their roadblock in the middle of the road all right, but there's nothing but bare ground either side of it. Do they take us for fools?"

Before we could answer, Sofia pulled hard on the left reins and dragged the horses in a tight turn, to gallop round the roadblock, leaving it to turn to their right.

I gave the soldiers the finger as we passed by.

"See any cavalry?" asked Sofia.

"Not this time," Ezio said.

"Good." She snapped the reins, and once again we began to close the gap between ourselves and Ahmet.

"Warning: Assassins are closer than they appear!" I roared, aiming my pistol, but there was yet another village, a small one, up ahead, and there was not enough time to get a good shot off.

"Not again!" said Sofia.

"I see it," said Ezio. "Try to close with him now!"

Sofia whipped the horses, but, as we reached the hamlet, Ahmet's coachman craftily slowed.

Despite her efforts to slow down, too, Sofia couldn't help drawing level, and Ahmet's coachman managed to veer and clip us again.

This time, he succeeded in throwing their carriage off balance, but it began to topple.

But the crash had had the same effect on Ahmet's vehicle. At the moment of collision, Ezio and I threw ourselves off our seats, into the air, and landed on the roof of Ahmet's coach.

We whipped out both of our hookblades, and killed both of the remaining soldiers that were on Ahmet's carriage.

The coachman had spurred his horses on again in an effort to right his carriage, while Sofia's had already capsized and crashed a short way behind us, in a cloud of dust. We were at the side of a sharp drop, and Ahmet's wheels went over it, taking his carriage down in turn.

Ezio and I, thrown clear, staggered to our feet and looked around, but the entire scene was obscured by chocking dust.

There was no sign of Ahmet, or Sofia.

* * *

><p>When the dust had settled, Ezio and I realized that we had to make this quick, because the soldiers we had passed would be coming for us soon enough.<p>

We surveyed the scene. Ahmet lay on his back some dozen feet from the wreck, groaning, seeming to be in great pain. The satchel containing the keys lay nearby.

Sofia appeared from behind a patch of shrubbery. She was bruised and shaken but otherwise unhurt.

With a nod to me, Ezio went to her, while I focused on Ahmet, who had pushed himself up with a noticable effort.

"Oh, look at this!" I said mockingly, scooping up the satchel, and making sure that the keys were unharmed. "Look's like I've got the upper hand, and now, it's just the two of us!"

Ahmet chuckled, managing to struggle to his feet. "Well, not just us..." Out of nowhere, half a dozen Byzantine troops appeared. They were heavily armed and took up protective positions around the prince.

I swore, and gestured for Ezio for him to stay with Sofia.

"You are a fool, Arthur. Did you really think I'd travel without backup?" Ahmet was about to laugh again but he was cut off by a hail of arrows, seemingly coming from nowhere, which struck down all the Byzantines in a moment.

One arrow struck Ahmet in the thigh, and he fell back, howling with pain.

I whirled around to see, a short distance away, a dozen Janissary cavalry, fitting fresh arrows to their bows.

At their head was a regal-looking man of almost forty-five, dressed in black and red, with a fur cape and a luxuriant mustache. He held up his hand.

"Hold!" he commanded. The Janissaries lowered their bows.

The leader and two captains dismounted and made their way toward Ahmet. They paid no attention to the three of us, as I joined Ezio and Sofia, having a feeling that they wouldn't appreciate my intrusion, while Sofia hid herself close to Ezio.

Ahmet seized a branch to support himself, and came face to face with the new arrivals.

Noticing the family resemblance between the two men, I began to put two and two together.

At the same time, Ahmet began to speak. "Soldiers! Selim is not your master! You serve the Sultan! You carry out his command alone! Where is he? Where is our sultan?"

Ahmet had backed his way to a fence on the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea, and there, unable to go any farther, he collapsed against it.

The other man had followed and stood over him. "Your sultan stands before you, brother," said the man.

He put his hands on Ahmet's shoulders and leaned in close, speaking quietly. "Our father made his choice. Before he abdicated. It was the best thing."

"What are you going to do, Selim?" Ahmet babbled, noticing the expression in his brother's eyes.

"I think it will be best to remove all possibility of further dissent, don't you?"

Selim's hands leapt to Ahmet's throat, forcing him back against the fence.

"Selim! Stop! Please!" Ahmet cried. Then he started to choke.

Sultan Selim Osman was indifferent to his brother's cries. In fact, they seemed to urge him on.

Ezio and I saw that he was pressing down on Ahmet with far more force than was really necessary.

Ahmet tried to fight, but the fence he was leaning against gave way. Selim released his brother just in time, and Ahmed fell off the cliff, landing on the rocks two hundred feet below.

Selim stood looking over the edge for a moment, his face impassive. Then he turned back, and walked over, at an easy pace, to where Ezio and I stood. "You must be the Assassins, Ezio and Arthur Auditore. I am Selim, Suleiman's father. He speaks quite highly of you both."

Ezio nodded. "He is a remarkable boy, with a magnificent mind."

But Selim's cordiality ended there. "Were it not for my son's endorsement, I would have you both killed where you stand. Leave this land, and do not return."

Ezio stiffened, and I stepped forward in front of my brother, as I knew Ezio's coming rage when I saw it.

"My Lord, we are of no threat to you-" He stepped foward also, and got in my face.

"I don't think you heard me, foreign _boy_! Leave now, and while you do, make sure you learn your place before speaking to me as if you were my counselor!"

_Oh, Okay! Mister Aladdin likes it rough!_

The only thing stopping me from killing him was Sofia's hand, restraining both Ezio and I. "Let him go, let it go. This is not your fight."

With a sneer, the Sultan left with his soldiers, leaving us with the dead. "No, it is not our fight," Ezio agreed. "But where does one end, and the next begin?"

* * *

><p><strong>One more chapter to go, guys! We're almost at the home stretch, and I'm already writing a semi-sequel to this, so it is in the works.<strong>

**Read and review, if you please!**


	19. Chapter 19

War Sage: Cheers, mate! Thanks for everything!

Chapter 19

Ezio and I stood once again at the foot of the great fortress of Masyaf, which was alone and silent, guarding its secrets.

We started up the long, steep path that followed the escarpment sloping up to the outer gates. After we had been walking for some time, we stopped and turned, concerned for our companion, who had fallen a little way behind, out of breath.

"Such a climb!" panted Sofia, catching up.

I had wanted Claudia and Maria to come along, but the latter was too young, while the former was...preoccupied. To my shock and absolute joy, I found out she was pregnant with our second child!

I couldn't wait to get home, but duty called.

Ezio smiled. "Just imagine if you were a soldier, burdened by a suit of armor, laden with supplies."

"It is so beautiful here," she said, looking around. "And this is where your Brotherhood began?"

I grimaced. "Well, it was reborn here, but it's been around for thousands of years."

"By the man you mentioned, Altair?"

Ezio nodded. "Altair Ibn La'Ahad. He built us up, then set us free." He turned to me, and I realized that I would be giving the Grand Tour.

I cleared my throat, and began showing them around the castle, or what little I had seen in my visions. "He saw the folly of keeping a castle like this. It had become a sign of arrogance, and a beacon to our enemies."

Sofia nodded. "And the mandate for menacing hoods? Was that his idea as well?"

I laughed. "Yeah, more or less."

We walked a little way before she spoke again. "You mentioned a Creed before. What is it?"

"Nothing is true, everything is permitted."

She raised her eyebrows. "That is rather cynical."

Ezio replied before I could. "It would be if it were doctrine. But it is merely an observation of the nature of reality. To say that nothing is true, is to realize that the foundations of society are fragile, and that we must be the shepherds of our own civilization. To say that everything is true, is to understand that we are the architects of our actions, and that we must live with their consequences, whether glorious or tragic."

I smirked, as we passed through the port-culass, and entered the main hall, and then passed through it on our way to the Library. "You must understand that Ezio is rarely this philosophical, or this correct!" Sofia smacked me playfully upside the head, as Ezio gave a mock-weary sigh.

After another moment, she asked both of us, "Do you regret your decision? To live as Assassins for so long."

I shook my head. "Being an Assassin is all I've ever known, so no, I don't."

Ezio, for his part, said: "I do not remember making that decision. This life, it chose me. For three decades, I have served the memory of my father and my brothers, and fought for those who have suffered the pain of injustice. I do not regret those years," he continued, as we entered an underground cavern that was very close to the library, "but it is time to live for myself, and let them go. To let go of all this."

Sofia took his hand. "Then let go. You will not fall far."

It was then that I realized why Ezio had wanted me to come with him, had_ insisted_ that I accompany him. It was not about me showing him and Sofia around, or not just that.

It was something else, something more. He wanted me to succeed his title of Mentor.

Come to think of it, for years, Ezio had been slowly putting on the mantle of responsibility on my shoulders, giving me more say in the affairs of the Brotherhood, as well most of the decision-making.

I had thought those to be tests of my loyalty, but now, everything fit together. It all made sense, and the shock of it was softened by the understanding that I could give it my best shot, and do well enough with it.

"And neither will the Brotherhood, Ezio. I will make sure of it," I said, and he turned to me, as we stopped in front of the door to the library.

"Once we open this door, I have a feeling that the answers you have searched for for so long, for all these years, will finally be made obvious to you. For me, the answer as to why you came here from your time has been clear to me for many a year."

He grasped both my shoulders, his eyes misting. "You were always meant to come here, to be at my side, to lead the Brotherhood after I had left. I would never have lasted this long without you."

I felt tears gather in my eyes. "And I would be nowhere without you, Ezio. I do not regret being brought here to you, to Claudia, to the Auditores. All I can say now is thank you." With that, we shared a hug that neither of us would ever forget.

* * *

><p>A short time later, we turned the big door in front of us, which was made of smooth, green stone. Its surface was broken by five slots, arranged in a semicircle at shoulder height.<p>

A light bulb went off in my head, and I placed the satchel containing the keys on the ground, and weighed the first one in my hand.

"The end of the road," Ezio said.

"Not quite," said Sofia, who was still wiping her eyes with her sleeve, touched by the emotional scence she had just witnessed. "First, we have to discover how to open the door."

As we studied the keys and the locks, we realized we had to match the symbols on the keys.

This took a while, and we had no way of knowing what would happen if we failed to unlock the door.

"Damn that Altair!" I grumbled, and Sofia laughed, and then asked, "What do you hope to find behind the door?"

I turned to her. "Knowledge, and answers to questions that I've been wanting to answer for decades."

"Does that include why you look so young, and Ezio so old?"

I laughed. "One of said questions, yes!"

Ezio continued the conversation. "Altair was a profound man and a prolific writer. He built this place as a repository for all his wisdom. He acquired such knowledge as to drive lesser men to tears."

"Then is it wise to tap into it?"

I shrugged. "We're kind of worried, but we ain't lesser men, as you should know by now."

Sofia snorted, and Ezio shook his head. "For once, give it a rest, _Fratellino_!"

We placed our torches in sconces, where it gave us enough light to start figuring out the puzzle. It would probably have taken us years without Sofia there.

After a long time, after much attempts, Sofia gave a cry. "They show constellations, each of the keys: Leo, Cancer, Aquarius, Pisces, and Capricorn!"

I smiled. "It's what my parents called 'the Zodiac!' Even I know in what order they go in!" Each key corresponded to a slot identified with a constellation immediatley preceding it in the Zodiac cycle.

It only took a matter of quick fitting, and then the door opened smoothly and soundlessly.

We stood at the entrance, a long hallway yawned before us, and, as we looked, two torches within, simultaniously, flared to life.

Ezio turned to me, and smirked. "Well, my old friend? It is waiting for you."

I gave him a flat look. "Really? I'm supposed to just leave you here, and go down into that place alone?"

Ezio shrugged. "I had my meeting with destiny already. Now, it's your turn! I'll be waiting for you."

I nodded, and turned to Sofia, who gave me a hug. "You had better come back out of there alive," she said.

I returned the hug. "C'mon, this is me you're talking about. Of course I'll come back!"

Ezio snorted. "Good, because if you don't, Claudia will go in after you, and drag you herself!"_ Hmm, she probably would_!

Ezio and I embraced again, and then I made my way down, as the door slid closed behind me.

_ I was glad I wasn't claustrophobic_!

* * *

><p>I walked slowly down the hallway, which sloped ever downward and broadened out as I progressed. I hardly had need of my torch since the walls were lined with them, and they flared alight, by some mysterious process, as I passed them.<p>

_Okay, kinda spooked out now!_

But, in a way, it felt as if I was meant to be here. At length, the hallway debouched into a vast, round chamber, 150 feet across and 150 feet high to the top of its dome, like the circular nave of some awesome basilica.

In the body of the room there were cases that must once have contained artifacts, but they were empty. The multiple galleries that ran round it were lined with bookshelf upon bookshelf, every inch of every all was covered with them. I noticed that every single on of them was empty.

But I had no time to ponder the phenomenon, as my eye was drawn irresistibly to a huge oak desk on a high podium at the far end of the room, opposite the entrance. It was brightly lit from somewhere far above, and the light fell squarely on the tall figure seated at the desk.

It was Altair, or his skeleton, dressed in Assassin robes. "No books, no artifacts...just you, my brother." I said, approaching and laying a hand delicately on the dead man's shoulder.

We were in no way related by blood, but the ties of the Brotherhood bound us more strongly than those of family ever could have. "Rest in peace, Ancestor-in-law." And then I realized, under Altair's right hand, lay a circular stone, made by alabastor, the same kind that we had used to open the door behind me.

I picked it up, and closed my eyes, allowing the stone to take me away again.

* * *

><p>"You say Baghdad has been sacked?"<p>

"Yes, Father. Kahn Hulagu's Mongols have driven through the city like a conflagration. No one has been spared. He set up a wagon wheel and made the population file past it. Anyone whose head came higher than the wheel's hub, he killed."

"Leaving only the weak and malleable?"

"Indeed."

"Hulagu is not a fool."

"He has destroyed the city, burned all its libraries, smashed the university, and killed all its intellectuals, along with the rest. The city has never seen such a holocaust."

"And never will again, I pray."

"Amen to that, Father."

"I commend you, Darim. It is well you took the decision to sail to Alexandria. Have you seen to my books?"

"Yes, Father, those we did not send with the Polo brothers, I have already sent to Latakia on wagons for embarkation."

Altair sat hunched by the open doorway of his great, domed library and archive, which was empty, swept clean. Clutched to him was a small wooden box. Darim had more sense than to ask his father what it was.

"Good. Very good," said Altair.

"But there is one thing, one fundamental thing, that I do not understand," said Darim. "Why did you build such a vast library and archive, over so many decades, if you did not intend to keep your books?"

Altair waved an interrupting hand. "Darim, you know very well that I have long outlived my time. I must soon leave on a journey that requires no baggage at all. But you have answered your own question. What Hulagu did in Baghdad, he will do here. We drove them off once, but they will return, and when they do, Masyaf must be empty."

Darim looked down at his father, who was very frail, hugging the small box to his chest. "I see," he said. "This is no longer a library then, but a vault."

_Bingo! Junior's got it!_

His father nodded. "It must stay hidden, Darim. Far from eager hands. At least until it has passed on the secret it contains."

"What secret?"

Altair smiled, and rose. "Never mind. Go, my son. Go and be with your family, and live well."

Darim embraced him. "All that is good in me, began with you," he said.

With that, his father entered the library, and the door closed behind him, and his son left...to live.

As Altair made his way to his chair, holding the box to his chest, extinguishing one torch after another, He remembered Al Mualim's words: "In much wisdom is much grief. And he that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow."

Then Maria spoke, a ghost in his mind, sounding young again. "What does it tell you? What do you see?"

He answered. "Strange visions and messages. Of those who came before, of their rise, and their fall..."

"But what about us, Altair? To our family? What does the Apple say?"

"Who were those who came before? What brought them here? How long ago?"

"Get rid of that thing!"

"This is my duty, Maria!" After a long pause, he said, "I have let it known that this Apple was first hidden in Cyprus, then lost at sea, dropped in the ocean. Tell men everything to keep them from this place. This Apple must not be found, not until the time is right."

He rose from his chair, and walked to a dark recess in the wall behind him. He pressed a lever, which opened a heavy door, covering a hidden alcove, in which stood a pedestal. He worked fast, and pulled the lever, the door to the alcove sliding shut, locking it away.

With that, he sat back down, and gave up his life, the stone logging the last memories of Altair...

* * *

><p>I turned the disc over and over in his hands under the candlelight. "Another artifact? Another Apple?"<p>

I knew what to do. I opened the same alcove, and beheld Altair's Apple. _I thought there was only one Apple?_

I reached out for it, a cold, lifeless little ball...and then I pulled away. "I don't think so, you little bastard! You'll stay here. You've cost me too much for me to try you again!"

I put my hand on the lever, but the Apple burst into life, bathing the room in blinding life.

I could feel someone listening and watching me, and from Ezio's many visions and dreams, I had a good guess who it might be. "Desmond? I heard your name before, Desmond. Ezio told me about you, and you've been watching me and Ezio all this time, haven't you?"

I paused, then continued. "I don't know where you are, or how you can hear me, but I do know that you are listening. Ezio and I have lived our lives the best we could, not knowing its purpose, but drawn to it. And here at last, I find a strange truth: That I am only a messenger, a conduit for something I don't understand."

I spread out my arms. "Who are we who have been so blessed to share our stories like this? To speak across centuries? It's a shame you and I couldn't meet in our time, but life's full of disappointments. Now, listen."

* * *

><p>With that, light blinded me, and when it faded away, a women stood before me. She was tall, with dark hair, wearing a head-dress that looked similar to a hood.<p>

"Who are you?" I asked, stepping back.

"I am Juno, Minerva's...sister, of sorts."

I frowned. "Is Desmond-"

"Desmond is receiving his message from my brother Jupiter, but you are receiving your own," she said.

I tilted my head to one side, as she continued. "You are the first of your kind, Arthur Katarn Auditore, the first to travel back, in order to witness the past, to experience it, so that you could help those who came after you. I have been watching over you for a long time, and now, I give you your final task."

I held up a hand. "Hold your horses! Why me? Why was I sent back?"

She smiled. "You are here because you were chosen from the moment you were born. Do you regret this?"

I shook my head. "Of course not. I just want some answers."

Juno nodded for me to continue.

"You said I was the first. That means that there are others."

She nodded. "There will be others after you. You were chosen to be their Guide, their Helper, their Guardian. Only by finding and experiencing everything would you understand what they will go through, and how much they will need your help."

After a long moment, I nodded, but there was one huge obstacle to her plan. "Sounds like fun. But does that mean I have to leave everybody behind now? I beg of you not to do this, for the love of-"

"You have chosen well. In return for your future service, you will begin your guardianship when you pass into the spiritual world, after living a full life with your family, wife, and children. Even I, Juno, have not the power to seperate what our Father has brought together!"

I breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that I would be allowed to stay with my family.

"Then I accept."

She nodded, but before she could go: "Why am I still young, Claudia as well? I should look like Ezio's age, right?"

She regarded me for a moment, then answered me: "In the world that you will go to, after your second death, those who are old appear as young. Besides, before your first death at the hands of your enemies, you didn't live that long, did you?"

* * *

><p>Before I could answer, the light blinded me again, and when I came to, I stood next to Altair, everything back to normal, the woman gone.<p>

"What the fuck was that all about?" I whispered to myself, before shaking myself, and walking over to seal the Apple away forever. "Good riddance!" I muttered, then I walked over to Altair, and saluted him awkwardly.

"Goodbye, Ancestor-in-law! Perhaps I will see you some time soon?" With that, I retraced my steps to the green door, and it allowed me to exit the library for good.

* * *

><p>And there were Ezio and Sofia, kissing each other like there was no tomorrow!<p>

"I leave you guys for a short period of time, and this is what I find?" I said, shaking my head in mock disgust.

To his credit, Ezio looked embarrassed, but pleased. _Ezio, no matter what his age, was up to his old tricks!_

"Ah, _bene_, you have returned," Ezio said, grinning, and pointed to Sofia. "Allow me to introduce my betrothed, Sofia!"

I grinned as well. "Well I'll be a son of a bitch! You sure don't waste time, do you?"

* * *

><p>We returned to Constantinople, to clear up some loose ends, before traveling to Venice, where I had the greatest pleasure to witness the wedding between Ezio and Sofia.<p>

By the time we returned to Rome, she was pregnant, for the love of Pete!

"What took you so long?" Claudia snapped, before giving me a long kiss, as Ezio and I entered the house.

As I hoisted little eight-year-old Maria into the air, and hugged her lovingly, she gave Ezio a kiss on both cheeks. "You've both put of weight. All that Venetian food, which is not good for you!"

We were situated at the Assassin HQ on Tiber Island, in late February, returning at the same time as Pope Julius's funeral.

"Some good news, I think," Claudia went on, as we sat in comfy chairs, with Maria on my lap. "Giovanni di Lorenzo de Medici is going to be elected."

I raised my eyebrows. "I thought he was only a deacon." I said, and Maria slapped me playfully on the chest.

"Oh, Papa! Surely you realize that that can't stop him from becoming pope?" Claudia smiled, as I grimaced.

_My girl had a point,_ I thought, as Claudia continued. "He has the backing of almost the entire College of Cardinals. He's even chosen a name: Leo."

Ezio nodded. "As long as he remembers that we are his friends, we should have no problems."

Maria snorted. "He could hardly forget the day back in Florence when you and Papa saved his life from the Pazzi, Uncle Ezio."

Ezio chuckled. "Well said, little niece!"

Claudia suddenly interrupted. "Ezio, where are your hidden-blades? Your sword?" _You could never put anything past Claudia_.

"Ah," Ezio said, "I gave the former to Arthur, the latter I sold. I don't need either any more. I am no longer Mentor, or an Assassin."

Claudia raised her eyebrows. "But what about a successor?"

Ezio pointed at me. "There he is, sister." Maria squealed, and Claudia smiled. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, and I'm sure the Council will not protest too much. Congratulations, my love." She finished, looking at me.

I winked in return, as Claudia turned to Ezio. "So you are giving up?" She didn't seem surprised at this, either.

"I have told you at Masyaf. I've done all I can."

Claudia sniffed. "Marriage has softened you up."

Ezio raised an eyebrow. "I cannot say the same for you."

She smirked, and then continued. "I do approve of your wife, by the way. Even if she is a Venetian."

Maria smiled up at her mother. "I like her too, Mama! She's so nice and clever!"

Claudia shrugged, and then turned back to Ezio. "What will you do next?"

"I really don't know. But I thought, if I can find the right place..."

"What?"

"I might grow a little wine."

"You don't know the first thing about it!"

"I can learn."

Maria and I watched the growing argument with interest, as Claudia snorted. "You, in a vineyard! Cutting bunches of grapes!"

Ezio shrugged. "At least I know how to use a blade."

Claudia looked scornful. "_Brunello di Auditore_, I suppose! And what else, between harvests?"

Ezio paused, then shrugged nonchalantly. "I thought I might try my hand at a bit of writing."

Claudia almost exploded, as Maria giggled wildly in amusement.

I could not help laughing myself.

* * *

><p>But Claudia, and my family, would later come to love their visits to the estate in the hills above Florence that Ezio and Sofia bought, restoring the broken-down building into a modest, but profitable, vinyard within two years.<p>

By then, Claudia had given birth to our son, Frederico, who inherited my grey eyes and red hair.

Ezio and Sofia gave birth to a daughter, Flavia, soon afterwards, and then a son, Marcello, a year later.

Ezio never did forget to gloat that it only took him a few short years to have his children, unlike me, who couldn't manage it until at least a decade.

Despite his insufferable gloating, Claudia and I grew to love our neice and nephew, almost as much as our own children, and many was the day when our children would romp in Ezio's fields, which gave him a few heartattacks, let me tell you!

Still, the vineyard actually seemed to suit Ezio, who became lean and tan, while my own work suited me.

Machiavelli was a constant visitor as well, a playwright, if you can believe it! We grew so used to his presence that I called him 'Uncle Niccolo' once, in a playful way, but the children began to do so after hearing me.

Maria, when she came of age, joined the Brotherhood of Assassins, despite my protests, while Frederico pursued a career in writing.

Maria was very much her mother's echo, fiery and sharp as a honed blade, while Frederico grew into a quiet, introverted boy who enjoyed arguing politics with Machiavelli.

It was my greatest joy to watch them grow into young adults, and being a parent was more important than anything to me, which, but was interrupted by a young Chinese woman named Shao Yun, who asked me for training and instruction in the Order.

Annoyed, but having nothing else to do, I did so, as it was my job.

After her training was complete, I said goodbye to an exceptionally young woman.

Shortly afterwards, I heard that Ezio was dead, passing away in the city of Firenze, at the age of sixty five.

Grieving deeply, I did not know that my own end was coming upon me.

When I was fifty-nine, I had a terrible bout of flu that I never recovered from.

When the end came, with my family sitting by my bed, with me until the end, I had no fear. "I love you all so much, and I swear to you that you will see me again soon," I promised, before greeting death peacefully.

Claudia would live for another ten years before joining me, shortly after witnessing the wedding of my daughter Maria to a good and honest Conditierri, and the financial success of Frederico, whose close friend happened to be Nostradamus. Federico fed his friends' head with the tales (future history) that he had learned from me on his mother's knee, and that sneaky son of a bitch made a fortune writing about my "tales!"

Now that Claudia and I are together in the spiritual world, I am ready and eager for my promised mission!

* * *

><p><strong>And that is it! Cut, and check the gate! Thank you all so much for reading my stories, and I am already writing it's quasi-sequel, so that should come after a short time. Closing time, all, so read and review! Love you guys!<strong>


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